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HOW G ERMANY MAKES WAR 
FRIEDRICH VON BERNHARDI 



HOW GERMANY 
MAKES WAR 



BY 

FRIEDRICH VON BERNHARDI 

GENERAL OF CAVALRY (rETIRED) 

Author of " Germany and the Next War** 



NEW YORK 
GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY 



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COPTBIGHT, 1914, BY 

GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY 



OCT 15 1914 



CI.A387046 ^- 



V 



EDITOR^S PREFACE 

General von Bernhardi's book "On War of To- 
day'' is one of the most important military works that 
have appeared in recent years. It is of special interest 
at the present moment as an exposition of the ideas 
underlying the German plans for the war with the Al- 
lies, and the methods on which the German staff rely 
in their operations in the field. 

The book is an attempt to show how war can be 
successfully conducted v/ith the enormous masses of 
men now thrown into a conflict between nations, the 
armies of millions that put the whole fighting power 
of a people into the battle line. General von Bernhardi 
insists that while certain fundamental principles of 
war must always hold good, their practical applica- 
tion has to be considerably modified now that these 
"armies of masses" are brought into action, and have 
to employ weapons and appliances more efficient than 
any which were used in earlier wars. 

The book was written for experts, and all serious 
students of war should read the complete translation 
of the work issued last year by Mr. Hugh Rees. But 
many readers will be glad to have the condensed ver- 
sion of General Bernhardi's treatise contained in the 
following pages. Some of the more technical details 
of the original work have been omitted; but nothing 
has been thus set aside which affects the writer's main 
argument. So, too, a choice has been made among 
the numerous examples from military history by which 

V 



vi EDITOR'S PREFACE 

he illustrates it. The more interesting of these are 
given; for the others the reader can refer to the com- 
plete translation. Throughout, the author's own 
words are used, only here and there a more familiar 
expression is substituted for one which would not be 
so easily understood by a reader unacquainted with the 
technical phraseology of German military literature. 
The work is none the less interesting because the 
General does not always slavishly follow the theory 
of the German Army Regulations. He boldly departs 
from the mere letter of these when he has to show 
what must happen in the conflct of great armies in the 
field. The reader will of course understand that the 
opinions General Bernhardi expresses as to the policy 
of our own and other Governments and their action 
in the past are given without comment or correction, 
though Englishmen will in many instances regard 
the view thus put forward as hardly consistent with 
the facts as we know them. He is writing as a leader 
of German military opinion for German readers, and 
looks at matters from a standpoint hostile to ourselves. 
As we read his words we must remember this. The 
book is a revelation of German policy as well as of 
German ideas on the way in which war should be con- 
ducted with modern weapons and under the new con- 
ditions of to-day. 



CONTENTS 



PAOB 

editor's preface V 



author's introduction . . . . ix 



CHAPTER I 
the secret of modern war .... 3 

CHAPTER n 
armies of masses 19 

CHAPTER ni 
force and numbers 41 

CHAPTER IV 
modern arms and appliances • • • 57 

CHAPTER V 
the importance of cavalry . . -91 

Note on the march of great armies . .104 

CHAPTER VI 
self-reliance, method, and command . . 109 

vii 



viii CONTENTS 

PAGE 

CHAPTER VII 

ATTACK AND DEFENCE . ' . . . - 135 

CHAPTER VIII 

THE OBJECT AND THE CONDUCT OF WAR . .159 

CHAPTER IX 

TIME, SPACE, AND DIRECTION . . < • 183 

CHAPTER X 

PRINCIPLES OF COMMAND .... 2O9 

CHAPTER XI 

NAVAL WARFARE . . . . . ,22"] 

CHAPTER XII 

RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT . . « . 247 



AUTHOR^S INTRODUCTION 

In the following pages I have tried to summarize as 
briefly as possible the results of many years of study 
and of preliminary labours with a view to furnishing 
the reader with a survey of all that concerns the con- 
duct of modern war. Much has been written on the 
various branches of the science of war. But a book 
embracing them all and showing their relative de- 
pendency seems to be wanting; and yet it is only by 
distinguishing and appreciating their connection with 
the whole science that the true value of each branch 
can be properly gauged. I think that with this book 
I have filled a gap in military literature. 

I think that I am serving progress by my work, 
and that I am at the same time in harmony with the 
best traditions of our glorious past. It was always 
timely progress which has led us to victory, and has 
given us from the outset a certain amount of su- 
periority over our adversaries. Such a superiority 
we must try to gain all the more in future as well, 
since it is only too likely that, with the present state 
of affairs in the world, we may be forced to fight 
against superior numbers, while, on the other hand, 
our most vital interest will be at stake. The political 
situation as it is to-day makes us look upon such a 
war even as a necessity, on which the further develop- 
ment of our people depends. 

Germany supports to-day 65,000,000 inhabitants on 
ix 



X AUTHOR'S INTRODUCTION 

an area about equal the size of France, whilst only 
40,000,000 live in France. Germany's enormous popu- 
lation increases annually by about i ,000,000. There 
is no question, agriculture and industry of the home 
country cannot give permanently sufficient employ- 
ment to such a steadily increasing mass of human 
beings. We therefore need to enlarge our colonial 
possessions so as to afford a home and work to our 
surplus population, unless we wish to run the risk of 
seeing again the strength and productive power of our 
rivals increased by German emigration as in former 
days. Partitioned as the surface of the globe is among 
the nations at the present time, such territorial acquisi- 
tions we can only realize at the cost of other States or 
in conjunction with them; and such results are pos- 
sible only if we succeed in securing our power in 
the centre of Europe better than hitherto. With every 
move of our foreign policy to-day we have to face 
a European war against superior enemies. This sort 
of thing is becoming intolerable. The freedom of 
action of our people is thereby hampered to an ex- 
traordinary degree. Such a state of affairs is highly 
dangerous, not only for the peace of Europe, which, 
after all, is only a secondary matter for us, but, above 
all, is most dangerous to ourselves. It is we, whose 
economical, national, and political development is 
being obstructed and injured ; it is we, whose position 
in the world is being threatened after we have pur- 
chased it so dearly with the blood of our best. We 
must therefore strive to find out by all means who is 
for or who is against us. On this depends not only 
the possibility of carrying into execution the political 
aims befitting the greatness and the wants of our 
country, but also the very existence of our people as 
a civilized nation. 



AUTHOR'S INTRODUCTION xi 

Hand in hand with the increase of population and 
the growth of poHtical power, resulting from our 
struggles for a united Germany, trade and industry 
rose to an extent hardly experienced by any nation 
before. Germany's output in brainwork is at the same 
time greater than that of any other people. Our 
prominent importance as a civilizing nation is plain 
to everybody since the German clans have joined 
hands to form one powerful State. We ourselves 
have become conscious of being a powerful, as well 
as a necessary, factor in the development of mankind. 
This knowledge imposes upon us the obligation of as- 
serting our mental and moral influence as much as 
possible, and of paving the way everywhere in the 
world for German labour and German idealism. But 
we can only carry out successfully these supreme 
civilizing tasks if our humanizing efforts are accom- 
panied and supported by increasing political power, 
as evinced by enlarged colonial possessions, extended 
international commerce, increased influence of Teu- 
tonic culture in all parts of the globe, and, above all, by 
a perfect safeguarding of our political power in 
Europe. 

Opposed to these efforts are the most powerful 
States of Europe. France wants to take revenge for 
1870-71, and regain its old political hegemony. Russia 
has a lively interest in not allowing our strength to 
increase any further, so that she may pursue her po- 
litical plans in the Near and Far East undisturbed by 
Germany. Russia may also, perhaps, dream of a 
future supremacy in the Baltic. If at the present mo- 
ment — weakened as she is by recent events in the Far 
East — she seems to pursue pacific tendencies, she is 
sure to return to her policy of aggression sooner or 
later. And, finally, England is particularly hostile^ 



xii AUTHOR'S INTRODUCTION 

towards us, in addition to France. The phenomenal 
development of our commerce and industry may in 
time become dangerous even to the British oversea 
trade; the tremendous increase of our navy is felt as 
a constant menace on the other side of the Channel, 
at least should England be involved in a great war 
elsewhere. 

We can be certain that Great Britain will most 
seriously resist any real extension of Germany's 
power, which, however, does not include the acqui- 
sition of some Central African territories.* 

It is possible that in case of war we will have to 
face all these enemies single-handed. At least, we 
must be prepared for this. The Triple Alliance is 
purely defensive. Neither Austria nor Italy are bound 
by treaty to support us in all cases of war or under 
all circumstances. In so far as their own advantage 
is not touched, they take no interest in Germany's 
world-politics; and it must at any rate be left an 
open question whether their statesmen will always 
be far-sighted enough to make the lasting advantage 
of their States the pole of their policy even at the 
risk of a war. We are thus, in all that is essential, 
dependent on our own strength, and must plainly see 
that on the power of our defensive forces alone de- 
pends, not only our future development, but our very 
existence as one of the great Powers of Europe. 

It is true the world is dominated to-day by the 
idea of war being an antiquated means of policy, un- 
worthy of a civilized nation. The dream of eternal 
peace has got a hold on vast sections of the community 
in the Old and particularly in the New World. 
Whereas, formerly, in addition to Emanuel Kant, 
only enthusiasts and visionaries were the champions 
* Written in September, 191 1. 



AUTHOR^S INTRODUCTION xiii 

of universal brotherhood, the Governments of great 
and powerful States have now seized this idea as well, 
and are cloaking themselves with the mantle of a su- 
perior humanity. The arbitration courts, which the 
contracting Powers engage to obey, are meant not 
only to lessen the dangers of war, but to remove them 
altogether. This is the publicly avowed object of 
such politics. In reality, it is hardly caused by an 
ideal love of peace, but is evidently meant to serve 
quite different political purposes. 

It is obvious that, above all, all those States are 
interested in such treaties, who wish to cover their 
rear so as to be able to pursue the more undisturbed 
and ruthlessly their advantages on other parts of the 
world's stage ; and from this argument at once follows 
that such treaties, where not confined to some dis- 
tinctly limited spheres of right, are only a disguise 
to conceal other political aims, and are apt to promote 
just that war, perhaps, which they pretend it is their 
intention to prevent. 

We Germans, therefore, must not be deceived by 
such official efforts to maintain the peace. Arbitra- 
tion courts must evidently always consider the existing 
judicial and territorial rights. For a rising State, 
which has not yet attained the position due to it, 
which is in urgent need of colonial expansion, and 
can only accomplish it chiefly at the cost of others, 
these treaties therefore augur ill at once as being apt 
to prevent a rearrangement of power. In the face of 
this widespread peace propaganda, and in opposition 
to it, we must firmly keep in view the fact that no 
arbitration court in the world can remove and settle 
any really great tension that exists and is due to deep- 
seated national, economical, and political antagonism; 
and that, on the other hand, it is impossible to change 



xiv AUTHOR'S INTRODUCTION 

the partition of the earth as it now exists in our favour 
by diplomatic artifices. If we wish to gain the posi- 
tion in the world that is due to us, we must rely on our 
sword, renounce all weakly visions of peace, and eye 
the dangers surrounding us with resolute and unflinch- 
ing courage. 

In the situation we are in, absolutely necessitating 
an extension of power, and requiring us to force our 
claims in the face of superior enemies, I think the law 
of self-preservation ought to have dictated to us an 
increase of our defensive forces by all means available, 
so as to throw into the scale at the decisive moment 
the full strength of our 60,000,000 populace. This 
we have not considered necessary. Universal service, 
which formed the basis for our military and political 
greatness, is the law with us, it is true, but we have 
not enforced it, as a matter of fact, for a long time, 
because we shirk the sacrifice we ought to make in 
the interest of our armed forces and of our future. 
The further development of our army in proportion 
with the growth of our population is completely para- 
lysed for the next five years by a law of the Empire. 
We seem to have forgotten that a policy, to be suc- 
cessful, must be backed by force, and that on the 
other hand the physical and moral health of a nation 
depends on its martial spirit. We have accustomed 
ourselves to looking upon our armaments as a heavy 
burden, borne unwillingly, forgetting thereby that the 
army is the well from which our people constantly 
draws afresh strength, self-sacrificing spirit, and pa- 
triotism. In the hour of danger we shall have to pay 
in blood for what we have neglected in peace, from 
want of willingness to make some sacrifice. 

But we have to reckon with all these circumstances 
as given factors. The enmities surrounding us can- 



AUTHOR'S INTRODUCTION xv 

not be exorcized by diplomacy. Armaments, under 
modern conditions, cannot be improvized at will the 
moment they are wanted. It seems impossible to get 
ahead of our rivals in matters technical. So much 
more, therefore, must we take care of maintaining 
spiritual superiority in case of war, and of making 
good, by will-power on the one hand, and by the skill 
of our operations on the other, the superiority in 
material and personnel possessed by our likely ad- 
versaries. 

The more we study the nature of the art of war, 
and the more fully the army is alive to what is essen- 
tial in war in general, and in the conduct of modern 
war in particular, the more uniformly and to the point 
will every portion of our army co-operate in war, 
and the greater will be the mental and moral superior- 
ity we shall gain over our enemies. ^ 



CHAPTER I 
THE SECRET OF MODERN WAR 



CHAPTER I 

THE SECRET OF MODERN WAR 

The nature of modern war is not a simple matter. It 
is subject to numerous modifications according to the 
character of the contending parties and of the various 
theatres of war. It is altogether different when we 
are fighting in the Balkans or in Manchuria, when 
Russians are fighting against Japanese, or Spaniards 
against Riff-Kabyles. The fundamental principles of 
war certainly remain the same, wherever it is waged; 
but special conditions cause in each case special meth- 
ods of employment of the fighting forces, and these 
latter, again, will frequently differ. 

If we are moving with forces of some size in a 
desolate, roadless, or mountainous country, we are 
obliged to adopt proceedings altogether different from 
those obtaining in a vast, slightly undulating plain, 
where railways and a well-built and extensive network 
of roads abound. Again, things will be different if 
we carry on war with small armies in a country little 
cultivated, like the English in South Africa, or are 
operating with armies of the size of those of the Great 
European Military Powers in a richly cultivated and 
densely populated theatre of war. 

It is this latter sort of war which we are concerned 
with most, for it is such a war we ourselves will have 
to wage, and this kind of war it is that stares us in 



4 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

the face like an inscrutable sphinx. There seems to 
be no doubt that, in a war like this, forces will assert 
themselves which we have' no experience to gauge, 
and the effect of which we can scarcely properly 
realize. Whole nations are called up to take the field 
against each other. They are going to fight with arms 
of patterns more perfect than ever before. The pro- 
portionate numbers of infantry, artillery, and cavalry 
are quite different from those of former times. Means 
of transport will be used to an extent and of such 
a perfect type as we have never seen used before by 
any army in the field. Every technical means is 
pressed into the service to facilitate communication. 
Even the air must be conquered; dirigible balloons 
and flying machines will form quite a new feature 
in the conduct of war. The question also arises how 
modern permanent fortification will affect the com- 
bat. It seems that all trade and industry must stop, 
when every capable youth is called away from work. 
It has been said that the effect of modern arms is 
such as to incapacitate the weakened nervous system 
of the highly civilized nations of Mid-Europe to re- 
sist this effect for any length of time. And lastly, we 
must also weigh the influence of naval warfare on 
what is going on on land, and what its effect will be 
on the whole campaign. The course of events at sea 
may mean starvation for the population. In short, 
a future war will reveal to us a series of seemingly 
incalculable forces. One might almost come to think 
that success in war will be more or less a matter of 
chance, which can in no way be influenced by fore- 
sight; that the will of the commander may be, so to 
say, switched off in the uncontrollable play of these 
tremendous forces; that we can only call up these 
forces, and then leave it to the mere effect of their 



THE SECRET OF MODERN WAR 5 

powers, to produce whatever they choose from this 
turmoil. 

I think it is not so, after all. If we closely examine 
the possible effect of all the new phenomena which in 
a future war must assert themselves, and then test 
them in their relation to the general laws of warfare, 
we must succeed in getting a general idea of the na- 
ture of modern war, and in ascertaining a method by 
which we can act most suitably. 

It is true there are still experienced and prominent 
soldiers who think that, in spite of all changes in 
armaments, Moltke's strategy and conduct of war is 
the last word on the subject, and that it is now merely 
a question of finding out by what principles Moltke 
acted, so as to be prepared for successful military 
operations in future as well. 

I do not think that such an interpretation corre- 
sponds at all to Moltke's spirit and genius. The very 
way he acted seems to prove the truth that in every 
war we must make use of the lessons of the past only 
in so far as we can apply them to, or modify them in 
accordance with, the changed conditions of our time. 
He, of all men, was the one who worked with an open 
mind at all that concerns the conduct of war. He 
never disregarded the lessons of any war, nor was he 
satisfied with them alone. He was ever looking ahead, 
to turn to account new developments. 

That is the way he has shown us. We are not to 
rest satisfied with what he has thought and done, but 
to go on unfettered, turning to account fresh develop- 
ments. We are to examine the conditions under 
which a future war must be conducted without blindly 
believing in authorities, and, from what Moltke and 
the German wars of unification have taught us, to 



6 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

develop new ideas and principles according to modern 
requirements. 

"How the actual operations will turn out next," 
writes the Field-Marshal in a memorial of November, 
1 86 1, concerning a future campaign,* "becomes more 
uncertain, indeed, the further we trace their progress. 
Yet we may consider the most likely contingencies, 
because they always start from given and permanently 
existing conditions. Experience of former wars must 
not be neglected, but is no safe guide for our days. 
Fifty years or a century have since passed and 
changed the political and strategical situation. . . . 
To arrive at the result intended, the only way left to 
us is to try to anticipate in outline the military events 
of the future, and get thoroughly acquainted with the 
present conditions. Here we have to reckon partly 
with unknown and changeable factors, yet, on the 
other hand, often with known and permanent ones. 
We cannot arrive at a result correct in all essentials, 
but we can ascertain what is probable, and this, in war, 
is always the only basis on which we can found our 
measures." 

What the Field-Marshal expresses here seems to be 
of a more general application, I think, than he meant 
it to be. What he says of the "actual operations" 
applies to war in general; for is not war experience 
the only possible foundation of military knowledge, 
the material, as it were, of which theory is in need 
for a scientific structure of a doctrine of war, whilst 
the changed conditions and new phenomena of the 
moment always create, by their presumable future 
development, new factors, which in actual warfare 
peremptorily demand consideration? But the past, 
the present, and the future are invariably dominated 

* Moltke's "Military Correspondence," Part iii. No. 4. r 



THE SECRET OF MODERN WAR 7 

by the general laws which are always and everywhere 
inherent in war as a social phenomenon. 

If, therefore, we wish to recognize the probable 
character of a future war and the new demands it will 
make on its conduct, we must proceed from the two- 
fold point of view which Moltke considers necessary 
to adopt in weighing matters. 

By the lessons which we learn from military history 
and our own experiences of war we must try to dis- 
cern "the permanent factors" with which we have to 
reckon, and the laws of development. This is the 
only way we have for further guidance of what in war 
is altogether possible and feasible. War experience 
alone enables us to become aware of all the frictions, 
moral influences, chances, and personal elements in 
war, which all are of far-reaching importance, and 
almost completely beyond theoretical appreciation. 
But we must next closely examine under what external 
and internal conditions a future war must probably 
be conducted; how the conduct of war will be affected 
by the changes in military matters since we gained 
our last experiences in war ; what effects these changes 
will produce. We must examine how far the results 
of our up-to-date war experiences will be influenced 
by these new phenomena, and we must try to find out 
in what directions this kind of influence is likely to 
assert itself. In this way alone can we succeed in 
ascertaining the conditions that will probably obtain 
in the next war, and in gaining some guiding rules for 
our action. 

But that is just the point. It is not enough for us 
to discern the nature of modern war, and thus to some 
extent satisfy a theoretical want; we rather wish to 
be able to develop from this knowledge a doctrine for 
acting in the field — a law, as it were, of future victory. 



8 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

If we survey the history of those wars, the course 
of which we can judge in some measure, we become 
aware of many instances where fighting dragged along 
without leading to a final and decisive issue. Neither 
side displays any special faculties that might turn the 
scale one way or the other. The result is then mostly 
some compromise between the belligerents which 
leaves matters pretty well as they were before, or the 
issue is brought about by the gradual wearing down of 
the weaker party. In other wars, on the contrary, a 
real issue is rapidly come to between two armies of 
apparently equal strength. Often it is the numeri- 
cally weaker army which obtains the most decisive 
victory. When this happens, it is either a great Cap- 
tain whose genius has turned the scale, or it is some 
particular circumstance which gave victory to the 
one party — a happy coincidence of favourable con- 
ditions; a numerical or tactical superiority; a special 
kind of armament; a moral superiority inherent in 
the character of an army; or a superior principle of 
acting. Where such peculiar advantages are placed 
in the hands of a great general who understands how 
to make a thorough use of them, success is, of course, 
all the greater. Our own Prussian history shows us 
repeatedly examples confirming the correctness of this 
view. 

Under Frederic William I it was discerned that the 
fire of infantry was the decisive factor in action. Fire 
tactics were therefore brought up to an extraordinary 
degree of perfection. The introduction of the iron 
ramrod proved exceedingly advantageous to increas- 
ing the rapidity of fire. The Prussian infantry is said 
to have delivered ten rounds * per minute even at that 

* Must be a misprint. Never known it more than five. — 
Translator, 



THE SECRET OF MODERN WAR 9 

time. But rapidity of fire of that kind, and the pre- 
cision of all movements as a sine qua non to it, were 
only possible with an iron discipline and a training 
which no other army could boast of to an equal de- 
gree of perfection. The Prussian infantry moved in 
rigid formations in an order which never failed even 
under the greatest stress, and thereby, as well as by 
its fire, proved superior to all its enemies. 

Frederic the Great next recognized, immediately 
after the first battle he took part in, that fire and order 
alone would decide nothing if they were not accom- 
panied by a resolute offensive. In further develop- 
ing fire tactics, on the one hand by concentrating ar- 
tillery at the decisive points, and, on the other, by 
making the power of fire everywhere subservient to 
the most determined offensive, he created a new factor 
of superiority over his adversaries, which asserted 
itself the more decisively, since he raised at the same 
time the manoeuvring power of his troops to such 
a height that no other hostile army could equal him 
therein. He further saw that cavalry was only of 
tactical value, under the conditions then prevailing, if 
it understood how to make use of the speed of the 
horse by a vigorous charge. By making this idea the 
leading principle of cavalry tactics, he made the Prus- 
sian cavalry the most victorious in the world. And, 
finally, in opposition to the learned strategists of his 
time, he saw the inexorable nature of war. Every- 
where, wherever he possibly could, he tried, strategi- 
cally as well as tactically, to bring matters to a most 
decisive issue, giving expression to this idea also in 
the form of his attack. Only by thus accumulating 
the actual factors of superiority did he succeed in 
fighting victoriously against a world in arms. 

But the linear tactics which had developed in this 



lo HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

way degenerated after Frederic's death into a system 
of artificialities, without any practical value. Over the 
mechanical art of leading troops the spirit of the 
principle and guiding idea was lost; strategy, too, set 
up the wildest systems. With this the Prussian army 
lost its all-conquering superiority. This became at 
once apparent in the wars of Frederic William 11. 
The soundness of the troops, it is true, enabled them 
to be victorious on the battlefield, but the conduct of 
the war on the whole was wanting the great decisive 
features which result only from a clear perception of 
war's real nature. The conduct of war lost itself 
more and more in conventional forms, which were 
bound to have an effect all the more disadvantageous 
as the tactics were defective too and did not meet the 
new demands originating from the revolutionary wars. 

In this way all the factors gradually disappeared 
which had made the Prussian army victorious. The 
wars dragged along without any decisive issue until 
Bonaparte appeared and brought into the conduct 
of war a new element of superiority. By opposing 
brute force to the learned and conventional mode of 
conducting war in his time, and by aiming at the 
utmost attainable with the simplest means, the great 
Corsican became irresistible to the armies of his age, 
until these in turn made use of his same principles 
against him, and until, by means of the Prussian army, 
recruited from the people by universal service, a new 
weapon was forged which, above all, proved superior 
through an idealism peculiar to that army. 

This acquisition it was which led humiliated Prussia 
to renewed victories. By retaining universal service 
after the war, while all other States returned to the 
old system of professional armies, Prussia once more 
acquired a powerful superiority over her rivals. This 



THE SECRET OF MODERN WAR ii 

superiority was enhanced by Prussia alone recognizing 
in time the importance of breech-loading arms and 
taking advantage of their greater efficiency. The 
result was the brilliant victories of 1866 and 1870-71. 
It does not seem likely that under modern condi- 
tions we shall be favoured once more by Fortune in 
a similar manner. All the States on the Continent 
of Europe have introduced universal service, and have 
thus formed national armies; all over the world are 
in use the most modern and most effective weapons; 
everywhere a most prolific use is made of every tech- 
nical appliance; everywhere in Europe the training 
of the troops is most zealously attended to, and the 
preparedness for war perfected to the utmost. A de- 
cided superiority of one army over any other can no 
longer be attained under these conditions. Nor can 
we count upon a stroke of good fortune as we had 
in our last wars, where a Bismarck conducted our 
policy, and a Moltke our armies; just as little dare 
we rely on the favour of special circumstances like, 
perhaps, a lucky political constellation, which state- 
craft might take advantage of with bold resolution. 
It may be we have, as a counterweight against the 
probable numerical superiority of our likely adver- 
saries, other advantages to throw into the scale ; above 
all an officers' corps, as no other army has, with an 
imperturbable offensive spirit and a uniformity of 
mind and feeling of duty which guarantee the stead- 
fast and resolute actions of everybody. Yet these are 
imponderable forces, which it is impossible to look 
upon as fixed factors in the reckoning, and against 
which must be set off the national advantages of our 
adversaries. Who is there that will deny, for instance, 
the high military qualities possessed by the French, 



12 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

soldier, or the stubborn and often-tried power of re- 
sistance of the Russians? 

If it is thus impossible for us to gain a numerical 
or material superiority, and if, on the other hand, we 
have no right to claim a moral superiority for our 
army as a distinct asset of power, the question is 
forced upon us, whether it may not be possible to 
gain a start on our adversaries by some other means 
which might vouchsafe us the possibility of victory 
over these stronger enemies? The answer to that 
question we can only gather from the experiences of 
the past. 

If we study the campaigns of great soldiers and 
examine the causes of their victories, we shall find 
that in the first instance always moral qualities en- 
forced victory. Superior resolution, boldness, daring, 
and steadfastness paralysed the energy of the enemy, 
and carried forward the victorious troops to the per- 
formance of extraordinary deeds. 

It must, however, be well understood that it was 
not the superiority of the procedure by itself which in- 
sured victory; the mode of action became only superior 
in reference to that of the opponent and to the whole 
of the conditions governing war at the time. Frederic 
the Great won his daring offensive battles because his 
adversaries faced him mostly with an inactive defen- 
sive, and were unable to paralyse his bold manoeuvres 
by suitable counter-moves, embarrassed as they were 
by the rigid forms and views of warfare of their 
time. Napoleon gained his splendid victories over 
the inadequate strategy and tactics of his opponents; 
and the principle of envelopment of Moltke's era led 
to success simply because the enemy did not adopt 
suitable counter-measures. 

These reflections show us that it is above all a ques- 



THE SECRET OF MODERN WAR 13 

tion of discerning the weak points inherent in the 
modern military system and conduct of war. Only 
by recognizing this fact may we succeed in arriving at 
a standard of action which will ensure us a superiority 
on which we can rely. 

He who fully sees and completely masters the diffi- 
culties arising from modern conditions in the conducf 
of war; he who has a clear and detailed insight into 
what can be done with modern war-appliances and 
what not, and how these must be used, therefore, to 
have the maximum effect; what, on the other hand, 
we must avoid, so as not to upset the powerful mech- 
anism of a modern army; he who by reason of such 
intelligence has arrived at clear and definite princi- 
ples of acting, and is perfectly aware of the decisive 
factors leading to success, particularly under mod- 
ern conditions — he will, at the outbreak of war, ob- 
tain a distinct superiority over an adversary, who 
from the outset either acts on wrong principles, or 
tries only in war itself to arrive at that clearness which 
he was unable to attain by his mental work in peace- 
time. This kind of superiority is, however, very much 
enhanced if we apply the knowledge we have obtained 
to the preparation for war, which, in fact, is already 
part of the conduct of war itself. The execution 
of what has been recognized as the most suitable is 
then greatly facilitated, and to the mental superiority, 
which reveals itself in the method of action, a ma- 
terial superiority is added. That side will be superior 
in a way its opponent can scarcely retrieve, which, 
well aware of the decisive importance of the subject, 
has striven for, and has obtained, superiority by work- 
ing for it in peace-time. 

H, for instance, it should be proved that the com- 
mand of the air will be the decisive factor in a future 



14 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

war, the army possessing the most effective aerial 
fleet would evidently have a decided advantage, though 
in other less important departments it may be inferior 
to its adversary. 

It is, therefore, not a question of competing with 
our likely enemies in all the various branches without 
distinction, such as raising huge armies, increasing 
artillery and ammunition, improving heavy artillery 
and siege trains, extending the railway system, and 
employing every modern technical appliance. A com- 
petition like this would be ultimately decided by finan- 
cial superiority, which we scarcely possess. We must 
rather exert ourselves to prepare for war in a distinct 
direction, and to gain superiority not in every branch, 
but in the one we have recognized as decisive, whilst 
taking a correct view of all other important branches. 

Much independence of thought and determination is 
required of him who acts in this spirit in a responsible 
position and stakes success in war, so to say, on one 
card. All depends, then, on whether a future war has 
been correctly estimated. Every error in decisive 
questions must prove fatal. Yet it is the only possible 
way for obtaining an unquestionable superiority, and 
almost every great captain has followed it. 

All the more is it necessary to see perfectly clear 
in these matters by studying them thoroughly. We 
must resolutely get rid of the influence of conventional 
views and opinions, extend and thoroughly sift in 
every department the ideas we are forming about a 
future war, trace to their utmost limit the conse- 
quences of all that may be new in a coming war, and 
then try to discover with inexorable logic the weak 
and the decisive factors in the whole picture thus un- 
folded before our eyes. If we approach this task with 
an unbiassed mind, keep a tight rein on our imagina- 



THE SECRET OF MODERN WAR 15 

tion, and strictly adhere to realities, the investigating 
mind will see unveiled the mystery of a future war; 
the sphinx will speak and we shall descry the law of 
future superiority. 

If, on the other hand, we only want to learn from 
the experiences of former wars without working out 
the practical result of these experiences, if we only 
try to bring into line, more or less mechanically, the 
new phenomena of our time with the old views, we 
must resign all idea of mastering the situation and 
making the most of it to our own advantage; in that 
case the war of the future will continue to be some- 
thing uncertain, a riddle, the solution of which is 
looked for and expected by the events of the future. 
But the task is to solve the riddle in advance. That 
kind of mental labour must bear rich fruit. It will 
best prepare victory. It must be done. ^ 



CHAPTER II 
ARMIES OF MASSES 



CHAPTER II 

ARMIES OF MASSES 

If we review the whole of military history as far as 
we have access to it, we become aware of an infinite 
series of different forms of war; war we see constantly 
changing. ''War," says Clausewitz, ''is a perfect 
chameleon, because in each separate case it changes 
somewhat its nature." 

But if we look closer into the military events, we 
perceive that in war, as in almost all other spheres 
of life, a certain constancy reigns supreme; that cer- 
tain features constantly recur; that certain relations 
between mode of action and success often remain the 
same. 

First, from its nature, the object of war is always 
the same, we wish, as Clausewitz has already defined 
it, to impose our will on that of the enemy, by either 
annihilating or damaging him, or warding him off; 
or, maybe, we want to force him to do, or to give up, 
what is to our advantage. Secondly, every combat 
is governed by the law of attack and defence. An 
action outside the limit of these two notions is alto- 
gether unthinkable. And, thirdly, all actions in war 
are influenced by the physical, mental, and moral qual- 
ities of men. 

All laws and principles which can be derived directly 
and purely from these three factors must evidently 
be looked upon as permanent laws and of general ap- 

19 



20 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

plication in war, which retain their decisive influence 
under all circumstances. 

But in a certain sense the character of the theatre 
of war also accounts for some definite features of an 
invariable type. 

In war on land, ground and the action of troops 
affect each other in many ways, always in the same 
manner. Defiles oblige us to decrease the front if we 
wish to pass them; steep gradients render upward 
movements difficult; eminences afford good view; 
ranges of hills cover from sight and direct fire ; and 
similar instances of general application may be cited 
frequently. Naval warfare, on the other hand, is 
enacted on a storm-swept plain, and is subject to cer- 
tain immutable laws from the nature of the sea. The 
same applies to the air and to the combats we shall 
see there in the future. But whatever may be the 
theatre of war, there remain but the three factors — 
the object, the form of action, and human nature — 
which determine the permanent soul of war from 
which the immutable laws of the art of war must be 
deducted. 

The impossibility of theoretically developing these 
laws in their totality must be plain to everybody. 
Nevertheless, principles of this kind are as necessary 
for the practical conduct of war as are the general 
laws which form its basis. All military actions are 
regulated by them from day to day. All tactical regu- 
lations as well as all measures of organization are 
due to them. To describe these convincingly and to 
explain them clearly is the purport of every practical 
doctrine of war. 

The difficulty of discovering irrefutably these im- 
portant principles of warfare is chiefly due to the fact 
that it is very hard, on the one hand, to procure all 



ARMIES OF MASSES 21 

the material facts, from which these principles must 
be derived, and that, on the other hand, we all may 
look upon this material from very different points of 
view. And, indeed, we find that the same experiences 
of war are not always judged alike in the different 
armies, and that new phenomena in the military world 
are not seldom appreciated differently. 

It will, therefore, never be possible to arrive at 
incontrovertible results in all that concerns military 
matters, as they are so uncertain and changing; but 
we must rely on the theory of probabilities. To get 
as near to certainty as possible by its aid will be the 
most we can hope to attain. Yet even then, in so 
far as it concerns principles derived from experience 
of war, we have to get over one difficulty more, and 
that is, we must find out whether the conditions are 
still the same as those under which a certain law was 
recognized as being a guide for us; whether we are, 
therefore, allowed to apply the principles resulting 
from that law straight to our own action in the pres- 
ent, or even in the future, without coming into conflict 
with the reality of things. The conditions continually 
change which determine the essential features of war, 
and it is not always easy to determine the amount 
and the kind of that change and its probable influence 
on the incidents of a future war. 

The outward conditions determining war, we know, 
do not change by leaps and bounds, but do so gradu- 
ally. Even the most momentous inventions and im- 
portant social revolutions do not suddenly produce 
a change of all the factors influencing war. Thus it 
has taken centuries after the invention of gunpowder 
before the fire-fight obtained its own, and it is scarcely 
possible to gauge to-day the probable effect of aerial 
navigation on the future conduct of war ; for it is , 



22 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

almost always impossible to discern the full signifi- 
cance of new inventions and innovations. In con- 
formity with the slow change of the ruling factors, the 
laws governing the mutual relationship of things, and, 
jointly with these laws, the periodical principles of 
warfare as well, change but gradually. That which 
in the past was fundamentally right may therefore 
often be so in the present, in spite of certain develop- 
ments having occurred, and form as a rule a reliable 
guide for recognizing the future, because things will 
develop according to a law, and, to a certain degree, 
can therefore be determined in advance. An example 
will suffice to show how the past in this way can be 
made to serve the future. 

At the time of Frederic the Great the armies were 
greatly dependent on supplies from magazines, or, at 
least, they thought they were. Every pressure on 
their own lines of communication seemed to them a 
great danger, every threat on those of the enemy a 
great success. The pressure on the enemy's lines of 
communication became thus one of the most impor- 
tant maxims of operations. Napoleon, on the other 
hand, supplied his armies chiefly from the resources 
of the theatre of war. By this he made himself al- 
most entirely independent of supplies from depots. A 
pressure on his lines of communication affected him 
little ; tactical victory put an end to all anxiety caused 
by this pressure. His procedure was no doubt very 
advantageous so long as he was able to subsist on the 
country and sure of tactical victory. The moment he 
failed in both, as in Russia, the army perished from 
want of regular supplies from magazines. In the 
campaign of 1870-71 we used Napoleon's system in 
combination with supplies from depots, which an- 
swered well in opulent France. But we would griev- 



ARMIES OF MASSES 23 

ously err should we think that this was the last word 
on the subject; and when Field-Marshal v. der Goltz 
lays it down as law that we need not mind a threat 
to our lines of communication, but must, by striking 
forward, force the enemy to abandon his threats,* 
the validity of such a law is very limited, and rather 
applicable only if we are sure of victory and can live 
on the country without needing the lines of communi- 
cation during the time before we gain the victory. 
But if in future, as will be most likely the case, situa- 
tions arise in which armies are really dependent on 
supplies from depots, the strategic importance of the 
lines of communication will again assert itself to an 
enhanced degree, and similar principles in the conduct 
of war will prove necessary as they — mutatis mutan- 
dis — obtained at Frederic's time. 

This example will suffice to make it clear in what 
way the development of military matters is subject 
to certain laws, and how greatly the knowledge of 
these may help us in shaping the future. 

(After pointing out the danger of attempting to elaborate 
a rigid system of the "laws of war" which may easily degen- 
erate into a mere rule-of-thumb method, and insisting on 
the necessity of any theory of war taking full acccount of 
the conditions of the time, the author proceeds to consider 
the effect of numbers in the wars of to-day.) 

Of all the features which are destined to influence 
the conduct of war under present conditions, and cause 
it to strike new lines, it is the levy of masses, above 
all, which no doubt will give its peculiar stamp to the 
next war. 

In the Central European States the whole male pop- 
ulation, as far as it is able to carry arms, will be called 
*v. der Goltz, "Krieg und Heerfiihrung," 1901. 



24 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

up, armed, and organized in tactical formations. In 
case of any hostile invasions, it is more likely than 
not that a "people's war" would be organized in the 
true sense of its meaning. The obligation of every 
citizen to serve is a generally accepted principle. 

It is true, not all those obliged to serve are given a 
military training in peace-time. In Germany, for in- 
stance, this is far from being a fact for some time past. 
Yet everywhere enormous hosts are to be mobilized 
in case of war, not only for the defence of the native 
soil, but also for attack. It is right, to some extent, 
to speak of the armies of millions of modern times, 
the like of which have not been seen before in his- 
tory. 

It is, of course, out of the question that armies like 
these can be of a uniform character. There are in 
Europe militia armies and standing armies, which 
are absolutely different in character. In the latter 
the line regiments, augmented on mobilization by the 
latest annual contingents of reserves, and numbering 
in their ranks most of the regular officers and non- 
commissioned officers, are more efficient than troops 
of the second and third lines, which are composed of 
contingents of maturer ages, and which it is impos- 
sible to provide with fully competent officers. 

The most efficient troops are called upon to face 
the enemy in first line, and to carry the war outside 
the country. The others are charged with the duty 
of furnishing the garrisons of fortresses, guarding 
railways, and occupying the districts conquered; or 
they serve to replace casualties suffered by the actual 
field army, or by any other fighting troops. All must 
at least be able to delay an enemy's attack by local 
defence, and to fight the enemy as guerillas should 
he cross the frontiers. 



ARMIES OF MASSES 25 

The consequence of this general levy is that the 
military value of the armies is very much more than 
formerly dependent on the character and nature of 
the nations themselves. The more of the population 
are enrolled into the fighting army, the more the 
spirit of the troops thus composed will be determined 
by the physical power as well as by the political and 
social spirit of the nation. An army with a discipline 
handed down from generation to generation, recruited 
from a vigorous folk accustomed to obedience, which 
has learned to limit its desires for the good of the 
common weal, and at the same time is trained to hard 
work and in the profession of arms, will give a better 
account of its power of resistance against demoraliz- 
ing influences, as well as against the sufferings, fa- 
tigues, and privations of a campaign, than the army 
of another nation, which is physically weakened, in- 
fected by revolutions, or disused to arms owing to in- 
creasing opulence. Sound political training, preser- 
vation and strengthening of the spirit of discipline and 
subordination, readiness to make sacrifices in the in- 
terest of the community, which constitute the really 
loyal spirit of a citizen, are the necessary conditions 
for carrying on successfully the war of masses in our 
age. Where, however, the recruits who enter the 
army are accustomed to resistance and insubordina- 
tion against all authority, the mechanism of a mod- 
ern army runs the grave risk of breaking down even 
under the pressure of conditions which by themselves 
alone would not be decisive. 

This development entails the further and, perhaps, 
still more important consequence, that the political 
importance of war has completely altered. Owing to 
the fact that all classes of the nation are affected, and 
that personal sacrifices are imposed on each individual 



26 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

family, wars for frivolous or dynastic purposes be- 
come impossible. We can and must uphold by force 
of arms only the really vital interests of the country. 
The resolve to go to war is also rendered very difficult 
to-day, because war afifects most deeply every member 
of the community. The sacrifice in wealth and blood 
that must be exacted will probably surpass everything 
we have experienced hitherto; and the dangers of such 
an enterprise, as well as the consequences of defeat in 
war, will be far greater than ever. Prussia's crushing 
defeat at Jena in 1806, and her rising in the memo- 
rable year of 181 3, give us, perhaps, an idea of what 
the sacrifices will be in a modern war, and the oppres- 
sion a nation will have to suffer in all likelihood should 
the war bring on defeat and with it the conquest of the 
country by the enemy. That France did not suffer 
in a similar way in 1870-71 is due to the broadminded 
humanity with which the Germans conducted the war. 
But it is not at all certain that other people will mani- 
fest an equally high moral standard. 

Preparation of war in peace costs, as it is, large 
sums, and claims a considerable portion of the national 
revenue. If we mobilize, the necessary expenditure 
rises enormously. As most of the labour will be with- 
drawn at the same time from the market, and all 
means of living be stopped thereby, the whole of do- 
mestic life must be shaken to the core. 

It has been asserted, and seemingly substantiated 
scientifically, that no State could carry through a war 
waged with the masses levied in our days. It would 
not only mean absolute domestic ruin, but war itself 
would be completely paralysed soon after its out- 
break; the economic strength for maintaining such 
huge armies would simply fail. For this reason alone 



ARMIES OF MASSES 27 

a war of that nature between two civilized nations 
would become impossible. 

I think this view is going much too far. It is in 
the nature of human things that they regulate them- 
selves automatically, as it were. Economic impossi- 
bilities do not crop up suddenly and all at once; they 
assert themselves gradually. Owing to the stress of 
the situation acting in a similar manner in both camps, 
the belligerents will be obliged to adapt themselves 
gradually to the existing situation. We can, for in- 
stance, hand over workmen to some industrial and 
agricultural concerns from the second and third lines, 
when they are not immediately wanted for military 
operations. The victor in the first decisive battles 
may be able to demobilize altogether the forces in 
rear of the army the moment the danger of hostile 
invasion has passed. The vanquished will sue for 
peace all the more readily the more impossible it ap- 
pears to him, from an economical point of view, to re- 
establish the balance of power upset by defeat. But 
where in an indecisive struggle the adversaries keep 
each other in check, the standard of their efforts will 
be gradually lowered, and success will ultimately fall 
to himi who can boast of the highest moral energy and 
self-sacrificing spirit^ or, where on both sides the moral 
motives are of an equally high standard, can hold out 
financially longest to finish the war. In this way the 
factors ruling the conduct of war will automatically 
adapt themselves, as it were, to the economic condi- 
tions, and a compromise between what was intended 
and what was possible will of necessity be the result. 

If we have thus established that an unfortunate war 
must entail far more disastrous economic consequences 
than ever before, and may lead to complete economic 
ruin, yet the inference that war with modern armies 



28 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

could not be carried to the bitter end from reasons 
of economy is not justified,. 

Two points of practical importance result, however, 
from these considerations. First, the economic super- 
iority of a nation forms by itself an essential factor 
of success, and the way a State manipulates its finances 
must have a far-reaching influence on the conduct of 
war. Secondly, all special preparations for war must 
be carried out with the greatest seriousness, vv^ith the 
utmost consistency, and without false economy. There 
can be no doubt that nowhere will half or insufficient 
measures be punished more severely than in the sphere 
of armaments. The losses entailed by an unfortu- 
nate war are so great, the venture of risking these 
losses by insufficient preparation is so dangerous, that 
even the greatest sacrifices for armaments seem justi- 
fied under all circumstances. 

From a purely military point of view, the growth 
of armies renders all military action much more dif- 
ficult. This difficulty is already felt when training 
soldiers. In order to raise the masses required for 
war without increasing the cost of peace training un- 
duly, the terms of service had to be reduced con- 
siderably in recent times. The training of each man 
must therefore be completed in a very much shorter 
time than formerly, and this imposes in consequence 
a much severer task on officers and non-commissioned 
officers. A very great amount of labour is moreover 
thrown on them by the fact that a very much greater 
number of recruits passes through their hands than 
in the smaller armies of the past, and that the numer- 
ous trained men must be retrained again and again to 
keep them permanently efficient. The consequence is 
that the strength of the trainers is taxed already to the 
utmost in peace time. 



ARMIES OF MASSES 29 

Another effect of these conditions with which we 
have to reckon is, that with the growing size of the 
armies the tactical worth of the troops is gradually 
decreasing. The greater the numbers which must be 
raised for war, and the more men must be therefore 
trained in peace, the more difficult it becomes to have 
available suitable officers and non-commissioned of- 
ficers to train the men and to lead them. In war, 
moreover, the first line will be weakened by having 
to detail officers and non-commissioned officers to new 
formations, and the more there are of these new for- 
mations, the more this will weaken the first line. This 
must impair the steadiness of the troops, and evidently 
cause a moment to arrive when the advantage of 
numbers is no longer of any value as compared with 
the tactical worth of the troops. It is just this point 
which the latest wars bring forcibly home to us. The 
levies of the French Republic, in spite of their numeri- 
cal superiority, were of no avail in 1870-71 against 
the firmly-knit battalions of the Germans; and the 
Japanese, in spite of the notorious numerical in- 
feriority of their army, invariably defeated the nu- 
merically superior Russians. In this respect the 
American War of Secession is also exceedingly in- 
structive. Again and again the numerically superior 
armies of the Union succumbed to the tactically and 
morally better trained forces of the Confederates. 

The conduct of war itself is further made more 
difficult by the masses of men. It will, in the first 
instance, prove exceedingly difficult to move the vari- 
ous armies, which together form a modern army, by 
a uniform idea, and to^ direct them in such a way as to 
ensure the participation of every portion in the main 
issue, without wasting forces in minor operations. 
But the difficulties also grow with the number of 



30 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

troops, from a technical point of view. Railway trans- 
port, and the systematic, movement of very large 
masses, their provisioning, the necessity of keeping 
them permanently efficient, and, therefore, of pro- 
viding for the constant supply of ammunition, the 
evacuation of wounded and sick, the pushing forward 
of the necessary drafts of men, horses, and material, 
the guarding of all important roads and lines of com- 
munication of the army, all these necessities present 
problems in the technical conduct of war which are 
very difficult to solve. 

The enormous number of troops raised obliges us 
to select large areas for assembling them, and to make 
a thorough use of the network of roads within those 
spaces so as to be able to bring to the front as large 
a number of troops as possible. The same considera- 
tion will often oblige us to march on each road as 
many troops as possible. The number of troops on 
each road is again limited by the possibility of supply- 
ing them, and by the necessity of bringing into action 
— though perhaps not on the same day — the rearmost 
troops before the fighting strength of those in front 
is exhausted. The necessity of provisioning the troops 
and of replacing armaments demands at once that, 
on all lines of advance, stores of equipments and pro- 
visions must be collected, pushed forward, and issued 
to the troops without this mechanism being allowed 
to stop for a single day. The difficulty is enhanced 
when, owing to the number of troops, ''living on the 
country" becomes impossible, and all supplies have 
to be brought up from the rear. 

The strategic mobility of the large modern armies 
is, under these circumstances, palpably far inferior 
to that of smaller armies, which, at least, in a rich 
theatre of war that provides supplies without diffi- 



ARMIES OF MASSES 31 

culty, could move with much greater freedom. It is, 
moreover, evident that a large army, with numerous 
march columns moving parallel with each other, needs 
more time for wheeling, concentrating, and forming 
a battle line than a smaller one, and has to contend' 
with greater difficulties of supply. Topographical 
obstacles, too, are manifestly more difficult to over- 
come by large masses than by smaller bodies. Owing 
to the clumsiness of all movements, and the time they 
take, all decisions of headquarters must be prepared 
long beforehand; it is therefore impossible to make 
always constant use of the intelligence daily received 
about the enemy. This again obliges us to push recon- 
naissance very far ahead, so as to have as early as 
possible information about the enemy's measures. 
This increases the depth of the army on the march, 
and with depth grows the difficulty of operating. All 
these conditions must be thoroughly considered, if 
we wish to form a clear idea of modern warfare. Yet 
even they do not include all the difficulties of operating 
which arise merely from the number of troops. 

In most cases, especially when we are obliged to 
fight against superior numbers of the enemy, we will 
have to apportion to the actual Field Army troops 
of at least the second line — therefore reserve forma- 
tions in Germany. These will be inferior to the line 
troops in power of marching, as well as in discipline 
and fighting qualities. The men comprising them are 
still perfectly efficient physically at their age of from 
twenty-four to thirty years, but often no longer ac- 
customed to particular military exertions. Nor can 
rapidly created new formations ever prove as thor- 
oughly trained and steadfast as a body of troops 
firmly welded together in peace time. A standard 
infantry can only be created under modern conditions 



32 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

in war, and when facing the enemy. To raise cavalry 
reserve units to the same, level as regiments of the 
line is altogether impossible, and new formations of 
artillery will but very gradually attain the same ef- 
ficiency as a unit thoroughly trained and knit together 
in peace, and thoroughly practised in shooting and 
driving. Headquarters are therefore obliged to 
reckon even in the first decisive battles with troops 
of varying tactical value. 

As regards tactics, very considerable difficulties as- 
sert themselves, also, in the employment of masses, 
which with smaller bodies do not exist at all, or to a 
less extent. The use of ground for tactical purposes 
has become very much more difficult for the huge 
armies of modern times, than was formerly the case, 
especially on the defensive. It is exceedingly difficult 
to find defensive positions suiting armies of some nine 
to twelve army corps. In most cases we will have to 
include in the position portions of ground affording no 
advantages to the defence at all, or, worse still, fa- 
vouring the attack. With the mass of troops avail- 
able, we can, of course, occupy the less favourable 
sections of the ground more strongly, and thus try to 
neutralize the disadvantages we have to take into the 
bargain ; yet we must bear in mind that the advantage 
of the defensive, of being able to spare troops just 
on account of the ground, is partly lost thereby, be- 
cause we are obliged to employ troops in passive de- 
fence, which, if the whole position had been better, 
we could have used for other purposes. A similar 
disadvantage asserts itself, also, in the tactical offen- 
sive. It will not always be easy to find spaces suf- 
ficiently favourable for deployment of the large num- 
bers in the attack of modern armies. Often we shall 
be forced to deploy troops on unfavourable ground. 



ARMIES OF MASSES 33 

In this way the modern armies of masses render the 
conduct of war difficult in many ways. But they 
themselves contain besides an element of danger that 
must not be underrated. 

The mechanism of such an army is so enormous and 
complicated that it can only be kept going, and be 
directed, if all its parts work fairly reliably, and if 
it is spared great and extensive moral shocks. We 
cannot, of course, count upon the fortunes of war 
keeping us free from experiences of this kind, just as 
little as we can count upon being victorious in every 
action. These shocks can be got over if they are felt 
only locally. But when large concentrated masses 
are once out of hand, when panic has seized them, 
when supplies fail throughout, and the spirit of in- 
subordination is rampant in those masses, they are 
not only powerless to resist the enemy, but become a 
positive danger to themselves and to their own com- 
manders. 

War conducted with large modern armies is there- 
fore, in any case, a risky game, taxing to the utmost 
the resources of a State in men and money. Under 
such circumstances it is only natural that measures 
are adopted everywhere to make it possible, should 
war break out, to finish it rapidly, and quickly relieve 
the tension which must arise when the whole nation 
is called to arms. 

This has caused arrangements to be made for the 
mobilization, immediately at the beginning of the war, 
of all the nation's fighting power, and for the strate- 
getic concentration of as many troops for simultane- 
ous action as space and other conditions will permit. 
From this it follows that at the outbreak of war, a 
great and unexampled contest of millions of men will 



34 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

take place, which will impress on modern war, in its 
initial stage at least, its special feature. 

But we cannot assume that the conditions which 
result from the calling up of a whole nation's strength, 
and from strategetic concentration at the threatened 
frontier at the beginning of the war, will continue 
throughout its whole progress. 

If in the Russo-Japanese War peculiar circum- 
stances caused the armies to arrive in the theatre of 
war slowly and by degrees, and to grow constantly 
stronger in numbers as the struggle proceeded, it will 
probably be the reverse in a Central European War. 

I have already pointed out that in the course of a 
long war the economic conditions must from physical 
necessity tend to reduce the employment of masses. 
But there are some other reasons tending in the same 
direction. 

There will first and foremost be the natural waste, 
which will very rapidly reduce the masses in the field. 
Apart from the losses in action, the waste in men was 
very great already in 1870-71. The loss by march- 
ing alone, until the first actions took place, was 8 to 
9 per cent., and during the war the companies espe- 
cially became greatly reduced, often to half, and even 
less, their full establishments. The waste was also 
great, of course, in the drafts that had come out. All 
this will no doubt be far worse in future. In the vast 
numbers called up we must be prepared to find in- 
ferior men. The losses the troops of the first line will 
suffer when marching are therefore sure to be greater 
than formerly; they will enormously swell when we 
must operate with troops of inferior quality. We 
must also reckon with the fact that some men of the 
older contingents of reserves, fathers of families, and 
politically unreliable subjects, will try, by some pre- 



ARMIES OF MASSES 35 

text or other, to escape service, and often so, perhaps 
successfully. In 1870-71 in France, during the sec- 
ond phase of the war, the republican authorities were 
frequently obliged to use the most stringent measures 
to get the men to serve. Large numbers will be there- 
fore lost from this cause. The course of the war will 
probably produce similar effects. The efforts made 
at the very beginning of the war are so great, that 
it is scarcely possible to increase them, at least in 
countries like France, which raises its last men on the 
first day of mobilization. If such an army is vic- 
torious, the inducement for further great exertion 
ceases, but if the war takes an unfavourable course, 
it will often seem hopeless to continue it when the 
supply of men has been exhausted, and the force that 
brought these masses into the field will then give 

way. 

All these circumstances will probably cause the size 
of the armies to dwindle away rapidly after the first 
decisive battles, especially when the physical and moral 
strength of a people does not come up to the high 
demands a modern war exacts. The war of masses 
will thus undoubtedly lose much of the character pe- 
culiar to it during the progress of events. In the 
conduct of war itself, conditions are also likely to 
arise, giving a different stamp to the combats after 
the first great decisive battles. It is quite a different 
thing when two intact armies meet on equal terms 
at the frontier, or when one army victoriously invades 
the enemy's country, and the other, beaten, but fight- 
ing in its own country, retreats. The conditions under 
which the struggle is continued then change in many 
ways, as we shall discuss afterwards. The war of 
1870-71 already took the course here described. 



36 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

though not in so clear a form as we may expect to 
see in future. 

The Russo-Japanese War, it is true, was of a char- 
acter altogether different. From beginning to end it 
was a uniform struggle of two modern armies; yet we 
cannot accept this as a proof at all that matters will 
take a similar turn in future. The conditions were 
quite peculiar which forced upon it this uniform na- 
ture. The main forces of both contending armies were 
in this case tied to the only existing railway, because 
they were dependent on it for their supplies. That 
railway formed the clamp which kept both armies 
closely concentrated and obliged them on the whole 
to advance against each other frontally. But noth- 
ing justifies the assumption that in countries with an 
extensive railway system, permitting the use of dififer- 
ent bases, things will be the same as in Manchuria. 
We must, rather, come to the conclusion that, owing 
to the enormous size of the armies, a future war in 
Central Europe will be of a twofold nature. The war 
at the time of concentration will reveal the special 
features of a modern war with masses. The opera- 
tions afterwards, however, which must result from 
the first great decisive battles, will be more like those 
we have witnessed hitherto. This latter period will 
be less distinguished by the special modern features 
due to the size of the combined forces in strategical 
and tactical operations than by the achievements of 
modern military technics, which will, of course, mani- 
fest their far-reaching influence also during, and im- 
mediately after, concentration for war. In addition 
to the effect of masses in future wars we must, there- 
fore, also thoroughly investigate into these modern 
war appliances if we wish to gain a clear conception of 
the nature of the next war. 



ARMIES OF MASSES 37 

But before we turn to the description and examina- 
tion of these mechanical appliances we must once 
more consider numbers in their all-important relation 
to force. Mass (numbers) and force are not identical. 
Force does not at all grow always in the same ratio 
as numbers. Between force and numbers there is, 
rather, a relation that often varies and depends on a 
variety of circumstances, demanding more than ever 
special consideration at this age of enormous armies. 



CHAPTER III 
FORCE AND NUMBERS 



CHAPTER III 

FORCE AND NUMBERS 

When we were glancing at the inevitable consequences 
of calling up for war, in our days, the whole nation, 
we became aware of the fact that the masses them- 
selves contained some elements of weakness, that 
they are sometimes even a kind of danger to our own 
conduct of war, but that nevertheless all States of 
Europe are dominated by the "mania for numbers," 
and that the general tendency is rather to increase the 
levies to the utmost limit of financial and personal 
capacity. There is no idea of stopping this for the 
time being. Numbers seem to the present generation 
the decisive factor in war. 

The importance attributed to numbers in general 
by all Continental States of Europe is naturally based 
on the assumption that, taking armament, equipment, 
and recruiting as about equal, the efficiency of the 
various European Armies would be about equal, that 
we could consequently attain a distinct and tangible 
superiority only by superiority of numbers. 

But this faith in numbers is a delusive idea. The 
experience of war at all times makes this clear, and 
nothing is more dangerous than to expect numerical 
superiority to do what it cannot perform by itself. 
The size of the armies employed is certainly one of 
the most decisive factors of force. Yet we must not 
overrate its importance. For the theory of war, the 

41 



42 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

notion of numbers is at first the only possible gauge 
we have for estimating force ; but the practical soldier, 
when applying theory, must always remain aware that 
force is equal to numbers only in theory, and not at 
all so always in practice. 

The numerical strength of an army is at first the 
only factor of force which can be ascertained for 
certain. All other components of this force can only 
be estimated, and are thus liable to deceive in an in- 
finite variety of ways. Knowledge of the enemy's 
numerical strength gives us, for all that, some kind of 
safe guide for judging what we may expect he can do, 
if we add that knowledge to our estimation of his 
military qualities, weaknesses, and peculiarities. In- 
deed, this guide may become an absolutely safe one 
if we have become acquainted already, by experience 
of war, with the enemy's peculiarities and efficiency, 
and are therefore no longer dependent on mere guess- 
work. It was thus possible, for instance, on the Ger- 
man side, after the battles of Woerth and Spicheren, 
to get a precise idea of the high tactical worth of the 
French army, its mode of fighting, and want of initia- 
tive on the part of the leaders. If, in addition, exact 
intelligence was available about their numerical 
strength, German headquarters held a safe guide for 
determining the vital force of the enemy. Where, of 
course, the armies are composed of troops differing in 
value, their total numerical strength affords no safe 
guide for what the enemy is capable of doing. Yet 
we must remember that even troops of different value 
at the beginning of the campaign, let us say first-line 
troops and new formations, may during the war attain 
a certain amount of equality. The weaker and less 
efficient elements will gradually disappear from the 
ranks, owing to the fatigues and privations; death 



FORCE AND NUMBERS 43 

will have its due, taking away too often the best and 
most daring men ; war experience is gained by all por- 
tions, and by degrees makes up for the deficiency in 
training.' All these elements work together, to efface 
gradually the difference in the value of the troops. 
If once this stage is arrived at, if the enemy has be- 
come aware of this development by experience, his 
intelligence about numbers will again be to him the 
decisive factor for estimating the enemy's power. 

The same, of course, holds good for our own troops 
too. If their qualities are so well known to their 
commander that he can form a correct estimate of 
them, numbers afford him the scale by which to meas- 
ure the force he must stake in each individual case 
to ensure success. If we are altogether justified in 
assuming the value of the troops of both belligerent 
parties as perfectly equal, numbers will form the ab- 
solute gauge for what force we must use. 

In the practical conduct of war, numbers will there- 
fore always form one of the most essential factors in 
strategical calculations, and of success. Yet numerical 
superiority is not always the most important condition 
for success. 

There are often occasions where superior numbers 
are of no avail. When Bourbaki attacked the position 
on the Lisaine, he was altogether unable to deploy his 
forces on the comparatively narrow space he had 
selected for attack. Of the 326 guns he had brought 
with him he could only get 80 into position; his in- 
fantry had no room for deploying their superior num- 
bers ; and so he had to give in before the numerically 
weaker enemy; and during his retreat his numerical 
strength brought further disaster upon him, because 
he was unable either to move, or supply in a proper^ 
manner the numbers he had. 



44 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

Conditions may arise where time makes it impos- 
sible for the numerically stronger party to concentrate 
superior masses at the proper moment. In other cases, 
again, it is the tactical and operative clumsiness of 
armies which makes it impossible for them to use their 
superior numbers effectively in the face of a more 
mobile and tactically better organized enemy. Mili- 
tary history abounds in such examples. 

Further, there may be situations in which large 
masses mean destruction owing to the disproportion 
between the numbers and the nature of the theatre 
of war. Poverty of the country and few roads mostly 
go together, because roads are not made arbitrarily, 
but originate from traffic of men and goods, and can 
only exist in proper proportion to this traffic. There 
may very well be cases where it is positively impos- 
sible to provision troops beyond a certain number, 
and to keep them efficient to fight and to move. The 
most telling example of this fact is furnished by 
Napoleon's campaign in 1812 in Russia, where the 
bulk of the army did not succumb to the rigours of a 
Russian winter, as legend will have it. It mostly 
perished during its advance, because, with a sparsely 
populated and roadless country, it was impossible to 
march the army divided, and supply it regularly. 
Then the hungry mass broke all bonds of discipline; 
the losses on the march grew enormously, and of the 
whole grand army, which, more than 300,000 strong 
at the beginning of the campaign, had begun its ad- 
vance under the personal command of Napoleon, some- 
thing like 123,000 men only reached the battlefield 
of Borodino, and only 90,000 Moscow. These rem- 
nants only perished from hunger and the cold during 
the retreat. 

If, in the cases mentioned, numbers were of no use 



FORCE AND NUMBERS 45 

owing to the peculiar and unfavourable conditions 
prevailing, we learn, on the other hand, from innumer- 
able examples of military history, that even under the 
most favourable conditions for operating with, and 
deploying, troops, the advantage of superior numbers 
was neutralized by the superior military and moral 
worth of the numerically w^eaker party. The Romans 
conquered the world with inferior numbers; and we 
need only open the great book of Prussian history to 
become aware of this fact from our own glorious past. 

The moral worth of troops thus gains decisive im- 
portance in addition to numbers, and this, under the 
conditions of modern warfare, will weigh all the more 
heavily in the scale. The capability of modern troops 
to endure fatigues and fight with energy, and their 
moral strength under privations and disaster depend, 
under modern conditions, on many other things, and 
differ, therefore, much more from those prevailing 
at the time of professional armies, which contained 
in their ranks many veteran soldiers, who had faced 
death a hundred times. Less than formerly must we, 
therefore, gauge to-day the efficiency of an army by 
numbers alone. 

The value of modern troops rests on national char- 
acter, and on the system of service ; on the moral and 
physical soundness of the men; on the training of 
man and horse ; on armament and equipment ; on the 
obedience to which the men have been educated; on 
the amount of self-reliance and initiative which is, 
nevertheless, developed in them ; in no small measure, 
on the confidence the men have in their superiors ; on 
the esprit-de-corps by which the troops are animated ; 
and lastly, on the ready zeal and devotion which the 
personality of the commander is able to rouse and to 
preserve. The power of an army further depends on 



46 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

the proficiency, intelligence, and heroism of the of- 
ficers. The value of armies will therefore vary ac- 
cording to the general state of civilization of the na- 
tions, and their military institutions, and so long as 
the national character and the state of culture of the 
nations, from which the armies spring, differ, as is still 
the case in Europe, we do not go wrong, in spite of 
the similarity of all military organization, in assum- 
ing that the various armies differ very much in their 
military efficiency. 

We have already pointed out, that even within one 
and the same army, the various categories of troops 
are of very different character, and that by filling up 
the cadres, existing in peace, with reserves on mobili- 
zation, the value of a unit may even be lowered.* 

The strategist in the armchair does not, of course, 
like these things, and it is at any rate very much sim- 
pler in all military plans to operate with tactical units 
as if they were as equal as the pieces on the draught- 
board, and not of varying value. We would, in that 
case, have a fixed rule for estimating the power of 

* An instructive illustration of this fact is afforded by the 
Imperial French Army in 1870. Here, the reserves called 
up often became a source of weakness, and brought the 
seeds of disintegration into the ranks of the well-disciplined 
peace-formations. The example of Lapasset's Brigade, be- 
longing to the Fifth Corps, is in this respect especially char- 
acteristic. This brigade had joined the Second Corps, dur- 
ing the retreat from the Saar. Arrived in front of Metz, 
the brigade commander asked to be allowed to hand over 
his reservists to the fortress garrison. He thought he could 
do better with the weaker peace establishments alone. His 
request was granted, and indeed it was this brigade which 
never budged an inch of ground, in spite of the most vio- 
lent attacks of the Germans, whilst other French troops in 
less difficult situations were often much shaken in their 
morale.— Lapasset, 1817 to 1875, "Memoires," 1900. 



FORCE AND NUMBERS 47 

an enemy, and could not only employ our own troops 
indiscriminately, but also augment them at will, so 
long as we have trained men, and money. But such 
a strategic calculation would hopelessly break down 
in the face of the stern realities of war; and to meet 
these successfully we must always reckon with the 
actual values ; not numbers decide, but force. 

The elements, however, from which force origi- 
nates, are almost all imponderable, and we can never 
succeed in expressing in a formula, universally appli- 
cable, the ratio that exists between force and num- 
bers, and in fixing the limits beyond which increase 
of force through increase of numbers will be neu- 
tralized by the elements of weakness which under cer- 
tain circumstances result from such increase of num- 
bers. But some points may be noted which should 
never be lost sight of. 

We must first of all remember that the tactical in- 
crease of force, which we may hope to gain by rein- 
forcements in numbers, vanishes if accompanied by 
strategic disadvantages which neutralize or even ex- 
ceed this tactical increase of force. We can certainly 
never be too strong in battle, yet there may be situa- 
tions where we must give up numbers in return for 
other advantages. This will be the case, for example, 
if the opportunity is favourable for acting rapidly, and 
would be lost, should we wait until the largest numbers 
possible are concentrated. The accumulation of troops 
may also impair their mobility and deployment to such 
an extent as to turn the tactical advantage aimed at 
into a positive disadvantage. 

We must, secondly, be clear on the point that 
numerical strength is only efifective as such, if the 
troops employed are actually fit to do the work im- 



48 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

posed on them. Nowhere more than in war is it neces- 
sary to deal with reaHties only. 

Lastly, we must never forget that the moral and 
mental factors of force are always the ruling factors, 
and, within certain limits — which in each case must 
be very differently defined according to special circum- 
stances — are more important than the numerical fac- 
tors. This goes even so far as to make the force of 
psychical impulses sometimes counterbalance almost 
completely all other defects, and the influence of one 
single great personality may raise to a marked degree 
the general level of efficiency of whole armies — nay, 
even of whole States. 

If the greater efficiency of troops is thus a factor 
which to some extent may make up for inferiority in 
numbers, and, with equal numerical strength, repre- 
sents a decisive superiority, we should think that, at 
least, with equally efficient troops on both sides, supe- 
rior numbers under otherwise equal conditions should 
guarantee us victory at least in theory. Yet military 
history proves that it is not so. 

The reason for this apparent inconsistency is very 
simple. The way of conducting war it is which gives 
victory to the one or the other party. By the ad- 
vantages of natural or artificially prepared ground, 
by the greater advantages he may derive from his 
armaments, and by other circumstances, forces accrue 
to the defender, which sometimes suffice to establish 
his superiority over the enemy; the assailant tries 
to gain superiority by the advantages inherent in 
the initiative and in offensive tactics. By this means 
he may succeed in defeating portions of the enemy's 
forces before the latter can concentrate them all 
against him, and in becoming by this local victory the 
numerically stronger party. The superiority which 



FORCE AND NUMBERS 49 

one or the other side may thus obtain, may and can be 
even so pronounced as to compensate for the original 
inferiority, and thus procure for the weaker army, 
supposing the troops to be equally efficient, the possi- 
bility of conquering the stronger enemy. But for such 
success we must always presume superior leadership, 
which can change almost everything to its favour. 
Here again we are confronted by an entirely impon- 
derable power. It will never be possible to determine 
what the effect of this power will be in each case. The 
increase of force produced by the absolute confidence 
of the troops in their leaders; the terror spread by a 
great name; the elasticity of genius in the moment of 
danger; and the importance of ingenious plans of 
operation positively defy all calculation. But when 
we see generals, who are not equal to their task, bring 
to naught the best performances of troops and the ef- 
fect of greatly superior numbers; when, on the other 
hand, we notice the successes gained by great captains 
against overwhelming odds, no room is left for doubt 
that great generalship is of decisive importance, and 
that it can make up for greatly superior numbers of 
the enemy. 

Yet experience and theoretical considerations show 
again that the most ingenious generalship is bound to 
fail when opposed to superior numbers that exceed 
a certain limit; that numbers, when they can act as 
such and are large enough, can neutralize all mental 
and moral superiority; that an equalization of num- 
bers by genius is, after all, only possible within cer- 
tain limits, and that a certain amount of numerical 
superiority is simply crushing, physically. 

Two means, we have seen, a commander has to get 
the better of even a stronger enemy. He can, by 
making clever use of the tactical advantages of the 



50 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

defensive, or by some successful offensive action, in- 
flict such losses on the enemy as to neutralize thereby 
his superior numbers, or, at least, their efficient em- 
ployment. If we start from this fact, we necessarily 
arrive at the following result : A general may neutral- 
ize the superiority of an enemy, if the proportionate 
numerical strength on both sides leaves any chance 
at all of inflicting on the enemy, one way or the other, 
losses large enough to neutralize his superiority. But 
if the numerical superiority of the one party is so 
great as to preclude the weaker party from decisively 
affecting, even by possible successes in the tactical 
defensive or by successful offensive actions, the total 
effect of the enemy's numbers, then no generalship 
avails to neutralize the effect of such superiority. 

This is the most essential law of numbers. 

The great captain of the French Revolution may 
be cited as an example. Especially in his first cam- 
paigns in 1796, the ever-victorious Corsican repeatedly 
succeeded in overpowering, by local victories, far su- 
perior forces of the enemy with an army that at first 
had been totally neglected. By seizing his opportunity 
when his enemies were separated, he, with his con- 
centrated forces, first defeated one group of the en- 
emy, and then turned round to defeat, with the same 
force, the other group. His enemies never succeeded 
in uniting their forces against him; but the portions 
first defeated represented such a large fraction of 
their whole available force, that by their defeat the 
original superiority was lost. 

The latest wars show the same law. The Japanese 
were surely perfectly clear on the point, when they 
attacked Russia at the beginning of 1904, that all the 
military forces of the Tzar were many times superior 
to their own. But there was doubtless the chance of 



FORCE AND NUMBERS 51 

conquering those forces of the enemy which could be 
employed within a measurable time, victories which 
were bound to shake the whole edifice of Russian 
power to its foundation, and make the enemy inclined 
to conclude peace. We know the events proved this 
reckoning correct. 

All the examples cited clearly show us the law of 
numbers in a positive sense. The numerically weaker 
conquers because he is strong enough to beat such a 
large portion of the enemy's forces locally in attack, 
or to weaken the stronger adversary materially and 
morally in the defence, to such an extent as will coun- 
terbalance, by the one way or the other, the original 
disparity in numbers. 

Military history, however, shows us also that this 
law cannot be infringed without punishment. When 
Napoleon, who so often and so brilliantly had beaten 
superior numbers with weaker bodies, wanted to en- 
force victory with an army so much weaker than 
those of his enemies that even the most famous 
local victories could no longer change their pro- 
portionate numbers, he succumbed, and was bound 
to succumb. 

We have convincing proof of it in the campaign of 
1 8 14. Napoleon turned against the Silesian army 
which was marching in separate columns, dealing it 
crushing blows and driving it back with heavy losses. 
But this success was not enough to restore, even to 
some extent, the balance of the total forces; and 
when this victorious general went in turn for the main 
army of the Allies, he succumbed in the face of the 
enemy's masses, though they were used even with little 
energy. 

A similar thing happened in the American War of. 



52 HOW GERMANY MAKE^ WAR 

Secession. For a long time General Lee, the great 
leader of the Southern army, was constantly able to 
restore the balance of force by local victories, gained 
on the inner line over the numerically far superior 
enemy, reducing the latter's superiority over and over 
again. But his resources declined; all the vital com- 
munications of the Southern States were gradually 
cut off, making the superiority of the North so over- 
whelming that no local victory could any longer reduce 
it, and no local defence make up for it. And thus the 
valiant band of heroes of the Southern States was 
ultimately obliged to surrender its arms, which it had 
so chivalrously wielded — before a positively crushing 
superiority. 

The law of numbers teaches also a positive doctrine. 
If it shows us, on the one side, the limits which even 
genius and its inspiring strength cannot transgress in 
this life without being wrecked; it shows us, on the 
other, how much even a limited force may achieve. 
By this law success, at least within certain limits, is 
no longer at the mercy of purely material forces; 
Napoleon's dictum proves false — that victory is on the 
side of the big battalions; the mechanical superiority 
of numbers does not reign supreme; genius of leader- 
ship, superiority of mental and moral forces will come 
to their due so long as they do not strive after the 
impossible; a bold and clear-sighted policy may look 
forward to well-deserved success. 

This holds good for our German Fatherland as 
well. If Germany is involved in war, she need not re- 
coil before the numerical superiority of her enemies. 
But so far as human nature is able to tell, she can 
only rely on being successful if she is resolutely deter- 
mined to break the superiority of her enemies by a 



FORCE AND NUMBERS 53 

victory over one or the other of them before their 
total strength can come into action, and if she prepares 
for war to that effect, and acts at the decisive moment 
in that spirit which made Frederic the Great seize the 
sword against a world in arms. 



CHAPTER IV 
MODERN ARMS AND APPLIANCES 



CHAPTER IV 

MODERN ARMS AND APPLIANCES 

After having attempted to reduce the importance of 
numbers to its true value, and give force its due with 
regard to numbers, we must now cast a glance at 
the military appliances by which the human mind has 
been unceasingly endeavouring to enhance force by 
pressing into its service the powers of Nature. 

Among the mechanical achievements of our age, 
modern arms rank first, because they directly affect 
fighting. They must be considered first. But it would 
not answer my purpose if I gave a complete survey 
of the present state of armaments in the different 
armies. I must leave that to expert knowledge in each 
particular branch. For me, it is a question of tracing 
the influence of arms on the conduct of war. I there- 
fore need allude to technics only in so far as it is 
necessary to understand tactics. 

The infantry being always the decisive arm, its 
armament is, above all, of the greatest importance. 
This is shown in all wars by the fact that the losses 
caused by infantry fire are always considerably higher 
than those through other arms. 

The efficiency of infantry arms in the different 
armies is approximately the same since the small cal- 
ibre has been adopted everywhere. Their rapidity of 
fire is great. About twenty rounds can be fired per 

57 



58 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

minute. In compliance with its range, the sights of 
almost every new weapon are provided with a scale of 
2,000 metres.* Most armies use the modern pointed 
bullet. Differences in armaments which might affect 
tactics do not exist anywhere. The German rifle, in 
particular, may be said to be a good one in every re- 
spect. It quite comes up to modern requirements. Its 
efficiency, rapidity, and accuracy of fire are good. Its 
construction is simple and serviceable. Somewhat be- 
hind time is, perhaps, the French Lebel rifle, which, 
in addition to other defects, has still its magazine 
along and underneath the barrel, whilst all other 
armies have introduced centre-magazines. Conse- 
quently, they are in France seriously engaged with the 
question of re-arming their infantry, hoping to gain 
thereby a start, especially over Germany. 

For all that, with the adoption of small calibre 
and clip-magazine, as well as with the introduction 
of smokeless powder, and of pointed projectiles, 
the development seems to have reached a certain 
climax, and to have come to a finish for the time 
being. 

Some States, it is true, are considering whether the 
time has not come for adopting an automatic rifle, 
which would allow of a very much greater rapidity of 
fire. Trials have shown that up to 100 rounds per 
minute can be fired with such a rifle, which at the 
present moment is actually being introduced in Mex- 
ico. France and England are hard at work construct- 
ing a similar weapon. In both these States the re- 
quirements to be fulfilled by this kind of arm have been 
made known officially, proclaiming thus a public com- 
petition, as it were. France seems to be nearer the 
solution of this problem than England. Commandant 
* About 2,200 yards, or 1% miles. 



MODERN ARMS AND APPLIANCES 59 

Chauchat has invented a machine-rifle ("fusil mitrail- 
leuse") weighing but 16 pounds, and enabling one 
man to fire 200 to 300 rounds per minute. Efforts are 
being made to construct from this model an infantry 
rifle not exceeding 8 pounds in weight. An armourer 
of the small arms factory at St. Etienne is said to 
have already produced such a weapon which, with a 
calibre of 6.5 mm., comes up to all requirements. It 
is not known whether it has a chance of being adopted. 
Trials are, at any rate, pushed forward vigorously, 
and we may be sure of France introducing a new rifle 
at no distant date, an automatic rifle, or one with 
magazine case.* 

The most material influence exercised by the im- 
provement of infantry rifles is the dissolving effect 
produced on infantry formations in action. 

Under modern conditions, closed bodies of infantry 
cannot expose themselves to rifle fire even at distant 
ranges, say 2,000 yards, without suffering most serious 
losses. As soon, therefore, as there is a chance of 
coming under fire, the infantry must deploy for ac- 
tion, so as to pass quickly into extended order the 
moment the enemy's fire begins to tell. All further 
manoeuvring is then out of the question; forwards or 
backwards is here the only thing permissible and pos- 
sible. The troops can only fight in single rank in loose 
skirmishing lines. Circumstances, ground, the en- 
emy's fire, and our own intentions determine the in- 
tervals between the skirmishers. Within effective 
range, infantry can only advance by rushes or crawl- 
ing, making at the same time the best possible use of 
the ground. Efforts will be made in most cases to 
decide the fire action at the medium ranges of 1,000 
or 800 yards. It is not likely that on open ground we 

*"La France Militaire," No. 7,851, January 25, 1910. 



6o HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

can approach the enemy's position closer than this be- 
fore his fire has been at least partly fought down or 
subdued. 

The character of fighting has altogether changed 
through all this. While it was formerly a question of 
leading the men forward in more or less closed bodies, 
under the direct control of their officers, with a por- 
tion only of the men extended in skirmishing lines or 
swarms, all the fighting troops now move in extended 
order, where each man fights and acts individually. 
Officers can no longer assert a direct influence, as 
formerly; the greater noise during an action renders 
it more difficult for orders to be heard. Often the 
few officers left can only act by their example during 
the action itself. The supports as well are obliged 
to advance over open ground in extended order, and 
can no longer follow the firing line so closely as for- 
merly, because the dangerous zones behind that line 
have been very much increased, owing to the flatness 
of trajectories, and because the shrapnel fire directed 
against the foremost fighting lines forces the supports 
to keep at a proper distance, if they do not wish to 
suffer unduly without being able to inflict any damage 
themselves. On that account all distances in action 
have increased. 

Through the introduction of an automatic rifle, 
effect of fire, it is true, would probably be increased; 
but many disadvantages would result therefrom. The 
new weapon would allow an overwhelming mass of 
projectiles to be hurled upon the enemy in the short- 
est possible time at a given moment in action; the 
physical labour of the men when firing would be re- 
duced. On the other hand, a great deal more ammu- 
nition would be spent, of course, and there would be 
greater danger of wasting ammunition than there is 



MODERN ARMS AND APPLIANCES 6i 

now. The question further arises whether it will be 
possible for the men to carry sufficient ammunition 
in attack to take full advantage of the rifle. Should 
these rifles carry still farther than the best of our pres- 
ent rifles, the troops will probably have to deploy for 
action earlier. But it is scarcely likely that the fore- 
most fighting line will have to extend in yet looser 
formation. The limits at all compatible with an or- 
derly conduct of the fight have been reached as regards 
that point. I do not believe, on the whole, that the 
introduction of automatic rifles would cause tactics to 
change appreciably. Without doubt, it would benefit 
the defence in the first instance. 

Nor is another new invention likely to affect tactics. 
It is the so-called ''flame-killer," a material manufac- 
tured in the form of powder, which, added to the 
charge, does away with the flash at the muzzle without 
impairing accuracy of fire. 

Infantry fire is very much enhanced by machine 
guns which, with ballistic properties equal to those of 
the modern infantry rifle, can deliver 600 rounds per 
minute, the gun being at the same time designed to 
sweep with its fire a certain frontage of the target by 
means of a slowly acting traversing arrangement for 
the barrel. 

The effect of these guns at known ranges against 
low targets is very destructive when the gun is care- 
fully served. But when the range is wrongly esti- 
mated, or the gun is improperly served, fire effect is 
very much impaired, the cone of dispersion being 
much shallower than that of infantry fire, where the 
individual marksmen commit manifold errors in aim- 
ing and firing, and thus cause a greater depth of the 
cone even when the range is known. But with ma- 
chine-gun fire the error committed by the gun is al- 



62 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

ways the same for each projectile, and the cone is 
therefore very shallow. Chance hits, as with infantry 
fire, are nearly impossible. By providing machine- 
guns with telescope sights it was thought better aim- 
ing could be insured; but the vibration of the gun 
when fired renders the use of that appliance difficult. 
Hoses have been introduced to carry on the steam 
generated by the water in the cooling apparatus when 
the gun is fired rapidly, so as to prevent the steam 
from being seen, making it thus more difficult for the 
enemy to range on the guns in action. 

The efficiency of the machine guns in use to-day 
and adopted by the different armies is approximately 
everywhere the same. Germany has adopted Maxim's 
system with hoses for steam exhaust, like most of the 
other great armies. Telescope sights are not used. 
France attaches great value to equipping the army 
with machine-guns. She has procured large numbers 
of them, and apparently tries by these means to make 
up for her shortness in infantry, which she can no 
longer increase owing to the numbers of her popula- 
tion. She has adopted Hotchkiss's and Puteaux's sys- 
tems. The latter system is said to be undergoing im- 
provements which raise the rapidity of fire from 600 
to 800 rounds per minute. France takes also an inter- 
est in the construction of light machine-guns in the 
form of a rifle like that of Chauchat, which I have 
mentioned. England, it is said, has resolved upon the 
introduction of a similar rifle as well. For the mo- 
ment the British Army is equipped with Maxim and 
Colt machine-guns. Two guns are attached to each 
battalion, and six to a cavalry brigade. Austria has 
adopted for the field army Schwarzlose's, and for for- 
tress warfare vSkoda's machine-guns. The other great 
military powers are equipped with Maxim guns, partly 



MODERN ARMS AND APPLIANCES 63 

apportioned to infantry and partly to cavalry, to raise 
their fire force. The mode of transporting the guns 
depends on the method in which they are intended to 
be used, and varies in the different armies. The guns 
are partly carried on pack animals and partly on 
wagons, whence they are placed for firing on a sledge 
or gun-carriage. If need be, they can be fired straight 
from the transport wagon, or the gun-carriage is at 
the same time used as the means of transport. Expe- 
rience alone can tell which of the patterns are the most 
useful. 

It can scarcely be doubted that the machine-guns, 
especially when used in numbers, will exercise a cer- 
tain amount of influence on tactics. If these guns are 
to co-operate with infantry in action, the latter will 
somewhat have to look after that auxiliary arm, the 
employment of which depends so much on special cir- 
cumstances. There is a risk, then, especially in the 
attack, of infantry regulating its advance too much 
by the machine-guns, and losing thereby its freedom 
of action. 

The weapons of field artillery have developed as 
rapidly as those of infantry. The effect of this arm 
has enormously increased since our last wars. The 
ballistic properties have been considerably improved 
since 1870-71, and the ranges have materially 
lengthened. Through the use of smokeless powder the 
possibilities of the effect of artillery, and through the 
adoption of new gims and projectiles, the nature of 
this effect, have been greatly enhanced. Shrapnel shell 
is used in addition to common shell. The effect of 
both kinds of these projectiles has greatly increased. 
In addition, combined projectiles are lately being in- 
troduced, which can act as common shell or as shrap- 
nel shell. It is anticipated that this kind of universal 



64 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

shell, or composite projectile, will be adopted by all 
armies within measurable time. By the fuse-setting 
apparatus the setting of fuses for the different ranges 
is rendered easier and more rapid ; it does away, at the 
same time, with a source of inaccuracy due to setting 
the fuse by hand. A mechanical time fuse, with clock- 
work that starts on a round being fired, is designed to 
diminish the irregularities in the acting of the time 
fuse, and to lengthen the shrapnel range. But this in- 
vention has so far not been adopted anywhere. 
Through the introduction of guns with their barrels 
recoiling, rapidity of fire is, however, very materially 
increased, because the rough corrections, at least, for 
relaying the gun approximately after each round, are 
done away with. By the use of shields the gunners 
are pretty fairly, though not perfectly, protected 
against fire from shrapnel and infantry. The rapidity 
and accuracy of fire is further affected very advan- 
tageously by the improvements in the apparatus for 
laying the guns. The independent line of sight allows 
a division of labour between two gunners, thus facili- 
tating and accelerating laying, especially for searching 
fire. The telescope sight makes it easier for the layer 
to see clearly and aim accurately at the target, in spite 
of the long ranges at which artillery is firing to-day; 
this, again, reacts favourably on the accuracy of fire. 
The hinged stereo-telescope, owing to its optical prop- 
erties and its fixed stand, makes it possible to find out 
and clearly trace in detail even targets otherwise diffi- 
cult to see on the ground ; it allows, moreover, the 
effect of fire to be well observed by those who fire. 

In addition to guns, which held the field alone for 
some time, howitzers have recently been introduced 
again. The necessity of destroying the enemy's field 
entrenchments and hitting targets behind cover has 



MODERN ARMS AND APPLIANCES 65 

brought this about. These guns are apportioned to 
the field troops as Hght and heavy field howitzers. The 
former have calibres of 9.5 to 10.5 centimetres, and 
the latter of 12 to 15.5 centimetres. Both have auto- 
matic recoil and protective shields, and can be used for 
direct as well as for high-angle fire. 

The heavy howitzers, to which everybody attaches 
great importance, use direct fire against solid upright 
targets like walls, buildings, entanglements, etc., with 
ordinary common or high-explosive shells, and against 
shield batteries and living targets with common shell 
or shrapnel. Opinions differ on the use of the latter. 
We have not introduced them in Germany. 

Of decisive importance for the tactical employment 
of artillery is, lastly, the development of indirect fire, 
which, owing to the modern means of laying guns, can 
be manipulated with great certainty, so long as the 
commander is able to watch the target. The artillery 
can thus be effective without laying itself open to fire 
that can be observed. The gun is laid with the help of 
auxiliary aiming points. So much importance was 
attached in France to this kind of fire that the guns 
always fired indirectly, as a matter of principle, using 
auxiliary aiming points (point de reperage). But the 
new Artillery Regulations of autumn, 19 10, have 
abandoned this extreme view. 

When firing from covered positions, the fire is 
watched from observation ladders, carried as a rule on 
observation wagons, and provided, if need be, with 
protective shields, or it is watched from points in the 
country, from which the targets can be seen, and which 
can be connected with the firing battery, if necessary, 
by telephone, for the transmission of the commander's 
orders. Laying for indirect fire is facilitated by the 



66 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

panorama telescope, which allows an unlimited and 
direct use of auxiliary aiming points. 

Lastly, we must mention the quick-firing guns of 
small calibre, which, with a bore of 3.7 centimetres 
and similar diameters, can fire about 300 rounds per 
minute, and are effective even up to 5,000 metres. In 
the South African war, these so-called pom-poms 
proved of great service, so much so that the English 
cavalry was supplied with them after peace was con- 
cluded.* The great mobility of these guns, the ease 
with which their fire can be observed, and the rapidity 
with which a certain amount of effect can be obtained, 
make them seem an arm especially useful for cavalry. 
But, for all that, they did not find favour with the 
German army. 

The field army of the German Empire is equipped 
with a y.y centimetre quick-firing gun. It is sur- 
passed in many ways by more recent patterns, yet it 
comes up to the tactical requirements. Its mobility, 
at any rate, is excellent. It is equipped with time- 
shrapnel for 5,000 metres range, giving a forward ef- 
fect of 300 metres for the cone of fire at the most 
favourable ranges ; and with common shell that can be 
used also with time fuse; but the use of common shell 
with time fuse is effective only when the bursting point 
is in a distinct position with regard to the target; the 
common shell with time fuse is therefore not a partic- 
ularly serviceable projectile. No other State, for that 
reason, uses common shell with time fuse. But the 
range of shrapnel has been increased to 6,000 metres 
and more by almost all other nations. The Japanese 
are even said to have attained a range of 7,500 metres 
for time-shrapnel. The independent line of sight, 
which Germany has not yet adopted, is being used al- 
* Have been withdrawn since. — Translator. 



MODERN ARMS AND APPLIANCES (^ 

ready in various other armies (France, England, Tur- 
key, Italy, partly in Russia, Belgium, and others). 

Besides guns, the German artillery is equipped with 
light quick-firing field howitzers, to be used for direct 
as well as for high-angle fire, and thus able to cut 
through strong overhead cover of field entrenchments. 
Its shrapnel has the same range as that of the guns, 
with slighter effect in depth. This howitzer fires a 
newly-constructed composite projectile (05), which 
can be either used as common shell or as shrapnel shell. 
As common shell with time fuse, it is more effective 
against targets behind cover when the bursting point 
is correctly situated, than the common shell of guns; 
and for percussion shell it contains a contrivance for 
setting the percussion fuse "with delay." 

Owing to the large calibre (10.5 centimetres), each 
round of a howitzer is more effective than one from a 
gun. But this difference is counterbalanced by the 
greater rapidity of fire from guns, and by the fact 
that the howitzer batteries carry less ammunition than 
the gun batteries. The greater number of light pro- 
jectiles gives more chances of hitting when sweeping 
and searching than the smaller number of heavy pro- 
jectiles. The replenishing and supply of ammunition 
is also affected by the difference in calibre; on the 
other hand, owing to the adoption of a universal pro- 
jectile, the preparedness of howitzer batteries for any 
kind of fire is materially increased. 

The German heavy 15-centimetre quick-firing field 
howitzer can cut through the strongest overhead cover 
of field entrenchments, and fight down in a very short 
time field artillery recognized as such, and under ob- 
servation. It uses only common shell with percussion 
fuse, with or without retardation for high-angle fire. 
Its explosive and detonating force is very great, and 



68 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

therefore likely to shake the morale of troops, even if 
there is not much actual damage done to materiel or 
personnel. But the heavy field howitzers are no good 
against permanent or provisional works. If the field 
army is to deal with them, heavier guns must be ap- 
portioned to it. Even the 21 -centimetre mortar, with 
which the German heavy artillery is equipped for that 
purpose, and which is going to be replaced by an im- 
proved type of the same calibre, may sometimes prove 
insufficient. So it will be necessary to introduce still 
larger calibres. Such a gun, a 25-centimetre howitzer 
on gun-carriage, has already been constructed by 
Krupp, as we see from 'Xoebell's Annual" of 19 10. 

Long guns of large calibre, designed more for for- 
tress and siege warfare, can also be attached to the 
heavy artillery of the field army for special purposes. 
They are the 10 and 13 centimetre guns of latest de- 
sign. The latter ranges up to 2,000 metres and more, 
and by its far-reaching and effective shrapnel fire may 
sometimes be of great use for enfilading the enemy's 
approaches, searching the ground in rear, and similar 
objects. 

To be complete, I may yet mention that the 13- 
centimetre gun and the 21 -centimetre mortar of recent 
construction are provided with a contrivance by which 
means the guns need not be fired from platforms, and 
can traverse unfavourable ground, such as soft ground 
and marshy meadows, and use country roads. 

Closed bodies of troops can no longer move to-day 
within the zones of effective artillery fire. When 
coming within its range, we are obliged to unfold the 
masses coming up by the roads and to split them up 
into fractions, so that these may find some cover on 
the ground, at least from sight. This is all the more 
necessary because the roads can be enfiladed by indi- 



MODERN ARMS AND APPLIANCES 69 

rect artillery fire with the aid of maps. The forma- 
tions when moving must also be chosen so as to offer 
as small a target as possible to the cone of dispersion 
of shrapnel fire. We will be often forced to cross dan- 
gerous stretches of ground by night and approach the 
enemy's position under cover of darkness. As a re- 
sult of this increased effect of artillery, it becomes nec- 
essary to begin the attack formation, where it is not 
covered by ground, much sooner than hitherto ; indeed, 
at distances, generally, preventing personal reconnais- 
sance of the ground and of the enemy's measures by 
the leader, thus obliging him to make his decisions on 
what information he receives from his reconnoitring. 
It is obvious that this distant artillery fire must affect 
strategy and tactics widely as regards time and space. 
All preparatory movements of troops on the battle- 
field itself must be made beyond the zone of artillery 
fire, and thus begin a long way off. If hostile aviators 
can see these movements, they must be made if possible 
so as to avoid the zone of indirect artillery fire as well. 
All enveloping movements must therefore begin at 
some distance from the battlefield. They must be 
carefully veiled or initiated by night marches, if they 
are to be a surprise. Greater distances must be kept 
between the lines of infantry following behind each 
other, owing to the great depth of shrapnel fire; the 
intensity of fire has contributed to loosen the fighting 
formations of infantry, which in turn causes the bat- 
tlefields to increase in extent out of proportion with 
the number of troops engaged. All this taken together 
requires reconnoitring to be done more rapidly, so as 
to group the forces early, not only according to the 
wants of strategy, but of tactics and the future con- 
duct of the action itself as well. Modern fire affects, 
of course, the tactical employment of cavalry too. 



yo HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

The infantry being obliged to deploy for action 
early, still more so is this necessary for cavalry, which 
presents a more favourable target than its sister arm. 
Nor can it hope to escape the effects of the enemy's 
artillery by the rapidity of its movement when the 
guns are properly served ; it will suffer grievous losses 
if it comes under effective shrapnel fire when in dense 
formations. Cavalry must, therefore, adopt loose for- 
mations early in action so as not to afford the enemy's 
artillery a good target. The occasion for cavalry to 
charge infantry under specially favourable circum- 
stances will also be rare, considering the formations 
in which infantry fights and the effect of modern fire- 
arms as described already in another chapter.* But 
when cavalry is obliged by circumstances to charge the 
front of troops steadily firing, the form of charge must 
be altogether different from what it was before. It 
can no longer use the line in two ranks when charging 
infantry in action, as that would be simply self-de- 
struction. The cavalry will try to cross the dangerous 
zone at its greatest speed, several lines deep in single 
rank, with intervals between the troops, and with 
closed bodies in small columns in the rearmost line. 
It will, if possible, advance on the broadest front per- 
missible, and from different directions, so as to dis- 
tract the hostile fire. Frontal charges made on artil- 
lery lines have more chances to succeed than on in- 
fantry firing, if the charge is delivered in suitable for- 
mation. But it is hardly ever likely that on the battle- 
fields of to-day artillery can be charged in front with- 
out the necessity of charging infantry at the same time. 
Charges on the flanks and rear of artillery, however, 
have great chances of succeeding now as before. But 
these will be of very rare occurrence in direct co- 
*Vol. i., book i., chap, ii., p. 39. 



MODERN ARMS AND APPLIANCES yr 

operation with infantry, and then only on a small scale. 
The cavalry is thus almost completely driven away 
from the common battlefield of the other arms by the 
modern weapons, and mainly restricted to acting on 
the flanks and rear of the hostile army. On the other 
hand, cavalry is now itself equipped with firearms, and 
can use them when charging is impossible. This opens 
to cavalry new spheres of activity, which promise 
great and important results if it understands how to 
make full use of its mobility, by being mounted, for 
acting in decisive directions with its firearms. 

Firearms absolutely rule tactics to-day, and dictate 
to tactics their laws. They have altogether changed 
the conditions under which cavalry can act, conditions 
which the cavalry cannot disregard without losing its 
place in modern war. The way in which it must act in 
future will be described in another chapter. 

The need for greater fire effect that asserts itself in 
all branches of warfare has even led to our falling 
back on methods which seem to be altogether anti- 
quated. For close combat, especially for the posses- 
sion of entrenched positions and permanent works, it 
has become necessary to look for some means of com- 
pensating for the artillery fire which cannot accom- 
pany the attack up to the last stages, nor support the 
defence to the very last. So we have fallen back on 
hand grenades, which, at close ranges, are hurled into 
the enemy's works, where they explode. Such projec- 
tiles may also be thrown from small mortars. The 
development of these missiles is not yet in its final 
stage ; more may be expected of them in the future. 

Krupp has lately constructed a contrivance for 
throwing bombs that will probably be of much serv- 
ice.* A bomb filled with high explosives, and fixed to 
* "Kriegstechnische Zeitschrift," vol. v., 1910. 



rj2 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

a guiding rod, is inserted into the loaded cannon at the 
muzzle, with the guiding rod- first, and in such a way 
as to bring the bomb to sit on the muzzle, whence, on 
discharge, it is thrown forward with sufficient ac- 
curacy at a high angle of elevation. The projectile, 
weighing over 80 kilograms, attains a maximum range 
of 300 metres, and owing to its very steep trajectory 
can be thrown behind any cover. The cannon rests 
on a gun-carriage that can be put on wheels, and is 
narrow enough to be moved about in the trenches. 
Its effect is solely due to the fire, smoke, and air-pres- 
sure produced by the enormous explosive charge. 
Nothing can keep alive in its proximity. The suffo- 
cating smoke and the poisonous gases will make it 
probably impossible for any one to occupy the parapet 
behind which some of these bombs have exploded. 
Perhaps obstacles can also be destroyed by these pro- 
jectiles, and men be rendered unconscious in the de- 
fences of the ditch. The importance of this new arm 
can only be established by experiments. 

The efforts also for fighting balloons with artillery 
have already produced some fair results. Captive 
balloons can be brought down easily by any field ar- 
tillery with shrapnel fire, and against non-captive bal- 
loons and other air-craft good results have already 
been obtained with guns designed especially for that 
purpose. 

The perfection of firearms having thus plainly af- 
fected the tactical employment of all arms and their 
formations when in motion or in action, to such an ex- 
tent as to cause protection to be sought, against undue 
losses as well as against view, by an increased use of 
natural cover, by looser fighting formations, and by 
movements at night, has led, on the other hand, to 
greater value being attached to artificial cover. 



MODERN ARMS AND APPLIANCES 73 

The infantry, which is the most exposed, made the 
first efforts to guard against the effects of the enem/s 
fire. Trials were made to protect the skirmishers by 
bullet-proof equipments (Dove's cuirass) ; recently the 
knapsacks were armoured, so that the infantry men 
should find some cover when lying down behind them. 
But all these devices are of no practical value so far. 
Extensive use, however, has been made in the last 
wars of earth cover, constructed before and during an 
action; and we may be sure of similar efforts being 
made in future. 

Shallow trenches for skirmishers lying down chiefly 
protect against frontal fire of infantry; deep, narrow 
trenches for firing standing, which are sometimes pro- 
vided with splinter-proof overhead cover, give protec- 
tion from shrapnel fire as well. Strong overhead cover 
provides protection against high-angle fire for sup- 
ports held in readiness close in rear of the foremost 
line; covered approaches allow reserves to be led for- 
ward into the firing line unseen and without loss. If 
time and material are available, closed earthworks can 
be built to form specially strong pivots of a defensive 
position. 

Artillery, too, feels the need of cover. This is clear- 
ly seen by their efforts to take up covered positions and 
fire indirectly. It has also led, as we have seen al- 
ready, to the introduction of protective shields, which 
give fair cover from frontal shrapnel and infantry 
fire. Batteries facing each other frontally cannot 
therefore hurt each other much by shrapnel fire. We 
must try to cause damage by full hits of common 
shell. The composite projectile of the German field 
howitzers will, without doubt, prove particularly ef- 
fective for that purpose. We can also endeavour to 
obtain hits behind the shields by oblique fire. To meet ^ 



74 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

such fire it has been often proposed to use broader and 
curved shields. But these could not procure complete 
cover either. At any rate, a frontal duel between ar- 
tilleries of equal efficiency can only be decisive to-day 
if a large amount of time and ammunition is spent; 
artillery can, therefore, hold out for some time under 
the fire of hostile artillery without even sufficiently 
replying to it. Both these points are important for 
the tactical conduct of an action. 

Cavalry, when it decides to use the carbine, will feel 
the want of entrenchments as well. The Boers in 
Africa, who were really fighting as mounted troops 
only, have, as we saw, made continual use of entrench- 
ments. But the experiences gained there scarcely 
apply to European conditions. The African horse- 
men seem to have carried their entrenching tools in 
their oxen wagons, and it is only due to the incredible 
slowness of African warfare that the tools were al- 
ways in time for use. This would be impossible dur- 
ing active operations in Europe. Here, the experiences 
of the American War of Secession may rather apply. 
During the great cavalry combats of those days, use 
was also often made of firearms, but we hear little of 
cavalry entrenching, while infantry did so extensively 
in the defence ; the actions came off too rapidly and 
energetically for that; and so they will probably in a 
future war. Still, cavalry may often find itself in 
future in situations where it will be obliged to en- 
trench for an obstinate defence, especially in locali- 
ties. The fewer means cavalry has for that purpose, 
the more it needs to make the best use of ground and 
existing buildings for neutralizing the effect of mod- 
ern arms. 

The preceding comments having demonstrated that, 
in field operations, fire and cover have increasingly 



MODERN ARMS AND APPLIANCES 75 

affected each other, we see that the same process, but 
to a greater measure, has taken place in fortress war- 
fare. The heavy garrison guns have also developed 
in a manner altogether surprising, and attained ranges 
and force of percussion necessarily affecting deeply 
the construction of permanent fortifications. 

Where it was a question of securing certain objects 
against being reached by hostile fire, the works cover- 
ing them had to be pushed further forward to meet 
the longer range of the guns; where, on the other 
hand, cover was to be provided from the eifects of that 
fire, the defender was obliged to have recourse to alto- 
gether new constructions. Under no circumstances 
could he suffer the attacking artillery to be superior 
in this respect. If, in active operations in the field, 
the construction of cover is not always convenient, 
though often an auxiliary means that cannot be avoid- 
ed, effective cover from the enemy's fire in for- 
tress warfare is by itself the determining factor. And 
thus, to attain complete cover, concrete and armour 
plates were adopted, efforts being made as far as pos- 
sible to secure the objects against hostile fire by their 
position as well. 

Under the force of circumstances two typical forms 
of modern permanent fortification have been evolved, 
namely, large army fortresses, and barrier forts. The 
object of the latter is to block certain communications, 
and to secure the possession of some important points 
in the country, whence the surrounding ground can be 
commanded by artillery; and, where coast defences 
are concerned, to sweep the channels or defend points 
specially favourable for landing. The large fortresses, 
on the other hand, are meant to secure the possession 
of large towns, which, for some reason or other, are 
of strategic importance. It being impossible, owing 



'je HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

to their size, to secure them by continuous lines, we 
surround them with a chain of forts pushed far in ad- 
vance, which must possess great power of resistance, 
and form, as it were, pivots of defence. The intervals 
between these works are defended by the garrison of 
the fortress, and strengthened by suitable entrench- 
ments. Intermediate works and ammunition depots, 
of permanent construction, are to facilitate an ener- 
getic defence. 

The disadvantage of these large fortresses is their 
extent. They need strong garrisons for their defence 
and take away forces from the field army. We must, 
therefore, when constructing such fortresses, always 
impose some limitations on ourselves as to the number 
of points to be fortified as well as to their extent. But 
the various defensive works, be they barrier forts or 
forts of a fortress, we must withdraw from the en- 
emy's sight as much as possible, by site and structure 
on the one hand, and on the other must make them 
as capable of resistance as possible. Overhead and 
outside cover are made of concrete, and the guns are 
placed in the permanent works protected by armour. 
Observing stations are armoured, too. The flank de- 
fences of the ditches are secured against direct fire by 
being placed behind the counterscarp, or sunk in the 
bottom of the ditch, where they can scarcely be struck 
by direct fire. 

In the face of these new means and kinds of forti- 
fication, the siege artillery adopted guns of a calibre 
growing larger and larger; accuracy of fire was striven 
after as far as possible, so as to pierce the solid cover 
and hit the small targets presented by the armoured 
cupolas topping the armoured turrets. These things 
developed pretty well alike in all the great armies. 
In Germany, the garrison artillery is equipped with 



MODERN ARMS AND APPLIANCES ^7 

15-centimetre howitzers — ^being the same gun as the 
heavy artillery of the field army — with the new 21- 
centimetre mortars, and with long lo-centimetre and 
13-centimetre guns, which later have replaced the long 
15-centimetre gun. The 15-centimetre howitzers are 
chiefly meant for fighting down the artillery and in- 
fantry positions. The field artillery is co-operating 
with these guns in the defence as well as in the at- 
tack. The 2 1 -centimetre mortars are mainly used 
against the strongest works of the enemy, and against 
guns protected by armour. These latter are partly 
heavy guns for distant ranges, and partly quick-firing 
guns of small calibre for close defence and for sweep- 
ing ditches and obstacles. 

It is, however, not anticipated that decisive results 
will be obtained with these guns against modern cover. 
All that can be obtained, perhaps, is a temporary 
throwing out of gear of the armour turrets' mech- 
anism, thus causing their fire to be kept down. But 
experiments in peace and experience of war have dem- 
onstrated that heavier guns than those mentioned are 
wanted actually to demolish modern works. If we 
bear in mind the enormous strength a real modem for- 
tress may possess, we must realize from the outset 
that considerably stronger guns must be used than our 
21-centimetre mortars.* 

For instance, 200 armour turrets have been ordered 
for the fortifications of Antwerp, each turret being 
armed with two 15-centimetre guns; for some fortifi- 
cations of Reval, 20 armour turrets for 30-centimetre 
guns are said to be provided; and in America, gun- 
trials have been made against armoured concrete more 

* The experiences of the attack on the forts of Liege and 
Namur show that the Germans have obtained these heavier 
guns since this was written. — Editor's Note. 



78 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

than 6 metres thick. Modern artillery must take ac- 
count of all this kind of cover in fortress warfare so 
as at least to match it. 

«|C ^ 3|C 5fC SfC 

The art of war has, perhaps, profited most by recent 
progress in practical science ; the rage, even, for being 
as modern as possible in that field goes in many ways 
far beyond what may be of practical value. We must 
not overrate the importance of practical inventions for 
war, nor, above all, imagine that mechanical appli- 
ances, be they ever so excellent, can make amends for 
deficiency in military and moral qualities. But we 
must, on the other hand, with inexorable logic and 
consistency, theoretically and practically, draw the con- 
sequences actually and necessarily resulting from this 
progress in technics. To foresee these actual and 
necessary consequences of new mechanical achieve- 
ments, and to take notice of them in practice, is one of 
the most essential tasks in the preparation for war 
even, and Prussia especially can boast of brilliant suc- 
cesses in this domain in times past. To examine the 
achievements of modern times from this point of 
view seems, therefore, a task especially needful. 

We have seen that the effect of modern firearms ex- 
ercises a great and direct influence on the character of 
the combat, and, therefore, on the conduct of an ac- 
tion ; and we had to acknowledge that, indirectly, strat- 
egy is affected as well by the altered nature of battle. 

It is just the reverse with the influence of the means 
of transport on the conduct of war. They directly 
increase strategic mobility of the troops, and benefit 
the strategic grouping of the forces; but indirectly 
they are of some importance for the conduct of battle, 
by promoting the independence of the troops of their 
lines of communication, by facilitating the bringing up 



MODERN ARMS AND APPLIANCES 79 

of supplies, and by creating possibilities for concentra- 
tions and movements which did not exist formerly. 
Commanders acquire thereby greater freedom of 
action. 

The most important means of transport are, of 
course, the railways, which alone make it altogether 
possible to concentrate, move, and supply the huge 
numbers of modern armies. The efficiency of this 
grand means of communication has been substantially 
raised since the last great wars of Germany. All the 
Great Powers of Europe have striven to enlarge the 
railway nets, often even from a military point of view 
chiefly. 

In case of war, the whole railway service is placed 
under military authority. All railway administrations, 
with their whole personnel and materiel, come under 
the military railway authorities. The whole railway 
service, as applied to military purposes, is in Germany 
controlled by the Director of Field Railways. Most 
of the railways continue of course to work as in 
peace generally, even in case of war. Those lines 
which come under war conditions are expressly named. 
They will be those lines which are considered as being 
in the theatre of war or in its neighborhood. On these 
lines, too, the railway service remains in the hands of 
the civilian railway directors and administrations, but 
the basis of all traffic on them is the military time- 
table. How far the carrying capacity of the railway 
is to be made use of is decided by the Director of Field 
Railways, who also issues orders as to whether, and to 
what extent, public traffic may be allowed. Public 
traffic is never allowed, as a matter of principle, on 
the lines in the actual theatre of war. 

"Military management" takes the place of war man- 
agement on those lines which have been captured dur-. 



8o HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

ing the war, or have been constructed by the military 
authorities. ''MiHtary management" may also be or- 
dered for lines which work under peace or war man- 
agement. In that case the military directors of rail- 
ways take over the administration and control of the 
lines. 

Owing to the importance the railways have gained 
to-day for all movements of troops, it is not only a 
question of making use of all existing railways; it 
may also become necessary to build new lines, to re- 
pair those destroyed by the enemy, and, on the other 
hand, to render useless lines used by the enemy, or 
those which we must leave in his hands. 

Special means of transport will still be necessary to 
communicate between railheads and troops, and the 
amount of transport must become the greater the more 
the troops outdistance these railheads. The impor- 
tance of these means of transport grows when only 
few railways are altogether in the theatre of war, and 
when the army conquering invades the enemy's coun- 
try, where all the railways have been thoroughly de- 
molished, and when, lastly, we do not succeed in 
rapidly and completely repairing what has been de- 
stroyed. 

In all European wars, draught animals were almost 
exclusively used, so far, for this kind of transport, 
exceptionally, perhaps, pack animals. But it is ob- 
vious, and is confirmed by experience as well, that 
this mode of supplying troops is bound to be very 
slow and difficult. The draught or pack animals need 
first of all themselves a good deal of supplies, if they 
are to keep efficient; and secondly, their power of 
marching is certainly very limited — at any rate, not 
at all materially greater than that of the troops them- 
selves; and this causes the troops sometimes to re- 



MODERN ARMS AND APPLIANCES 8i 

strict their movements out of regard for supplies. It 
was, therefore, one of the first problems for mechanics 
to design means for limiting, as much as possible, 
transport by animal power. 

Motors now do away with this defect. They are 
the latest achievement in military transport service, 
and seem specially fitted for facilitating materially the 
transport of goods behind the armies. All draught 
animals can now be spared, which is of greatest im- 
portance ; a few vehicles can carry very much greater 
loads than those of draught animals, and the speed 
of these vehicles is much greater than that of the 
former columns, thus enabling the troops to be sup- 
plied without their needing to shorten the marches 
demanded by strategy. 

Whenever personal reports or communications be- 
tween distant headquarters are of importance, or even 
desirable only, the motor-car is a suitable means of 
conveyance. The car is certainly tied to good roads, 
but then there is no need for shunning little detours 
since, owing to its speed, the car can cover in a very 
short time even long distances. Motor-cars are also 
suitable for conveying orders. These cars make it 
possible for superior headquarters to remain longer 
in billets for further work, and yet to be in their 
new quarters at the proper time. They can also be 
used for guarding telegraph lines and sometimes signal 
stations; the small autos especially can relieve the 
cavalry very much of orderly and relay duties. The 
private motor-cars are thus on the border between 
the means of transport and the actual means of com- 
munication. 

But we cannot warn too strongly against overrating 
the efficiency of motor-cars, and, thus, their military 
importance. Their mechanism is still very delicate, 



82 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

and easily deranged, when not treated carefully, and 
when not kept clean. Dc^mage to tyres is of every- 
day occurrence; barricades, wire entanglements, and 
similar things, cleverly arranged, may easily prove 
fatal to motor-cars, especially at night. Their use is, 
therefore, chiefly confined to the roads within safe 
reach of our own troops, and not too much endangered 
by hostile inhabitants. The cars will, of course, be 
also used sometimes in districts threatened by the 
enemy, but in that case we can never count for certain 
on a journey being successful. The performance of 
this kind of conveyance depends on many conditions, 
which may easily upset all calculations. Their use 
as a means of communication in the foremost line, or 
even for reconnaissance, is therefore very limited. We 
have built armoured motor-cars, it is true, which are 
to be used in enterprises likely to be interfered with 
by the enemy, and have even armed these cars with 
light guns and machine-guns, but no serious military 
value can really be attached to these experiments. 
By being armoured, these motors lose their chief ad- 
vantage, namely speed and handiness. 

The whole telegraph service is organized to accom- 
pany and facilitate operations in a successful offensive 
war. But whether it will be always possible to es- 
tablish and change communications seems rather 
doubtful. The demands made in this respect are ex- 
ceedingly exacting, and can scarcely be met, espe- 
cially when retrograde movements become necessary. 
To take up and relay lines behind an army advancing 
is always possible; but when we retire, we will often 
be obliged to abandon the material; the possibility 
of permanently maintaining telegraphic communica- 
tion with Headquarters of Commands will then be 
doubtful; and if we further bear in mind that in vast 



MODERN ARMS AND APPLIANCES 83 

districts the lines will be threatened by the popula- 
tion or hostile patrols it becomes obvious how exceed- 
ingly important it is to have means of communication 
not dependent on connecting wire. 

This want is met by field signalling appliances and 
wireless telegraphy. 

The former is an optical telegraph with which either 
sunlight or a powerful signalling lamp is used. 

Far more useful and applicable is wireless telegra- 
phy. By it communication can be established for long 
distances, and without visual connection, and it is al- 
most altogether independent of weather and ground. 
But, electric waves extending in the air in all direc- 
tions, there is the disadvantage of foreign apparatus 
reading our messages as well. We guard ourselves 
against this by using cipher, and adopting special 
measures. 

The equipment of wireless stations is very com- 
plicated and bulky, and must be carried on wagons. 
A thoroughly trained personnel is necessary to serve 
it. Its use with the troops is, under these circum- 
stances, inadmissible. But wireless telegraphy is ex- 
cellently adapted for connecting the highest commands 
with each other and with the advanced army cavalry, 
which should be equipped with wireless stations as a 
matter of principle. The apparatus taken in the field 
can safely transmit intelligence up to 200 kilometres, 
as far as it has been developed to-day. Good service 
will also be rendered by wireless telegraphy in connect- 
ing besieged fortresses with the country outside, and 
in the defence of coastlines. Probably all countries 
have therefore established permanent wireless stations 
in the big fortresses and at other important points. 
It must further be assumed that all European armies 
have similar arrangements to our own, and that we 



84 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

can hardly lay claim to being superior in any of these 
technical departments. 

Modern technics have thus tried to ensure the safe 
transmission of intelligence in all sorts of ways and 
manners ; and though each of the means has its weak- 
nesses and disadvantages, yet, taking them all to- 
gether and in combination, they will, in a most decisive 
manner, contribute to making it possible for the mod- 
ern armies of masses to be led. Their importance for 
active operations in war cannot be rated too highly. 

These means of communication will materially aid 
command in battle too. With the size of modern 
armies and with the extension of battlefields conse- 
quent thereon, it is much more difficult than formerly 
to ensure the safe transmission of orders and reports ; 
on the other hand, it has become very much more 
important for proper connection to be maintained 
with subordinates in action, through the fact that the 
size of the masses employed makes it very difficult 
to counter-order measures once adopted. To-day it is 
therefore still more important than formerly to 
have reliable means of communication between com- 
manders. 

If intercommunication between the leaders, and be- 
tween them and their troops, is only maintained by 
mounted men (adjutants, orderlies, etc.), uniform 
control of an action is possible only within a com- 
paratively limited space. Mechanical communication 
must therefore step in for longer distances. If the 
roads are favourable, motor-cars can be used for that 
purpose; sometimes flag and field signalling may be 
worked ; and lastly, telegraph lines can be laid as well 
on extensive battlefields if the corps telegraph de- 
tachments are requisitioned. But the most suitable 
appliance for such purpose seems to be a telephone 



MODERN ARMS AND APPLIANCES 85 

that can be easily handled. These considerations have 
led to tdephone detachments being formed for head- 
quarters of superior commands; these detachments 
are equipped with 8 kilometres of a light field cable 
that can be laid in about twenty minutes per kilo- 
metre. The stores are carried on a wagon, which 
also carries the men. Telephone connection ensures 
direct personal intercourse between the commands 
concerned, but this at the same time harbours a cer- 
tain amount of danger. It is, that superior com- 
manders may feel tempted to encroach upon the sphere 
of subordinate leaders by meddling with details with- 
out being able to judge of what is going on; and that 
the subordinate commanders may try, by asking ques- 
tions, to shift to higher quarters responsibility which 
it is their own duty to take. Demoralization may 
also easily spread from one command to the other by 
means of the telephone. The apparatus must there- 
fore be used with deliberate caution, and only by the 
proper authorities. The advantages it affords are so 
great, however, that we cannot dispense with its use 
on the battlefield. Good use can also be made of the 
telephone detachments when the troops are at rest, 
either to connect the main body in quarters with the 
reserve of outposts, or army corps headquarters with 
the divisions, and these with each other when the 
corps telegraph detachment is not available.* 

* Reliable reports say that a simplification of the field 
telegraphs is planned, and has already been tried at the 
Emperor's manoeuvres in 191 1; namely, the corps telegraph 
detachments, less the Morse apparatus, have been amal- 
gamated with the telephone detachments of the higher com- 
mands to form larger telephone units. These will be at the 
disposal of army corps commanders, and used by them in 
sections according to wants. The telephone detachments 
with the troops are not affected by this reorganization. 



86 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

The troops themselves, with their present tactics, 
have also felt the want of telephone connection of the 
various units with each other and with their com- 
manders. The troops have therefore been equipped 
with telephone appliances as well. 

The covered positions taken up by artillery, when 
the leader is often at an observing station some dis- 
tance from his command, have made it necessary to 
connect him with his men by telephone to make it 
possible for him to direct the fire. But the difficulty 
of bringing to the knowledge of subordinate officers 
the orders of the higher artillery commanders in the 
long artillery lines, especially when stationed in 
groups, often makes telephone connection between the 
various commanders a necessity too. 

The infantry telephone is very suitably applied on 
outpost duty; and, as personal transmission of orders 
is almost impossible during an attack, the infantry 
tries to make the best of signalling flags and tele- 
phones in action, as well. But these aids are scarcely 
to be relied upon. When the powerful material and 
psychical effects of an offensive action assert them- 
selves, there is no room at all any more for the special 
issue of orders demanding deliberation and an altered 
course of action ; one law prevails then alone : the 
iron will to beat the enemy. 

We must finally mention the latest achievements in 
technics, namely, aeronautics. 

The various kinds of air craft, like the motor vehi- 
cles, are important as a means of reconnaissance, of 
communication, and of transport; and they promise to 
be much more so than hitherto. For the present, of 
course, airships and flying machines cannot be con- 
sidered quite perfect for war service. But it is merely 



MODERN ARMS AND APPLIANCES 87 

a question of time for that problem to be completely 
solved by mechanics. 

The Zeppelin airships are, owing to their size, very 
stable, have great lifting power and a wide radius of 
action. They are, moreover, in so far safe against 
injury as the gas that carries the balloon is distributed 
among a good number of independent gas-tight com- 
partments; the balloon, therefore, need not neces- 
sarily come down, if some of them have been emptied. 
But these airships have this against them, that they 
cannot be taken to pieces, but must be shelved in spe- 
cial sheds, and that they cannot be transported. An 
empty Zeppelin balloon can only be moved for a very 
short distance, and then only with the aid of a very 
great number of men. To use these airships we need, 
therefore, specially prepared anchorages. At the be- 
ginning of a war they will go forward from the per- 
manent sheds established in the frontier districts, and 
can then return to them after finishing their trip. 
But when we advance into the enemy's country, we 
must carry portable sheds if we wish to continue using 
these ships. And so these have already been provided ; 
they can be taken by rail, and have proved their worth 
at trials in manoeuvres. 

Compared with the rigid airships, the semi-rigid and 
non-rigid airships have considerable advantages. The 
semi-rigid balloon is quickly mounted, the gas being 
applied direct; owing to the rigid frame or keel to 
which it is attached, it possesses comparatively great 
solidity; it can be taken to pieces and moved about, 
and therefore be used without requiring a shed. The 
rigid keel, however, which can be taken to pieces, 
makes the ship need several wagons for transport. 
The size of the ship, as used, so far, in Germany, pre- 
vents it having the carrying capacity or the wide 



88 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

radius of action of a Zeppelin ship. But its present 
measurements are not at all final, and may easily at- 
tain those of a Zeppelin balloon, as matters stand 
to-day in the world of technics. The Parseval airship 
is still easier to get ready and to dismantle than the 
military semi-rigid airship, and can be transported on 
two wagons. The disadvantage of both these sys- 
tems is that any serious injury to the cover will in- 
fallibly bring down the balloon, since the gas is not 
distributed in numerous independent compartments as 
in the Zeppelin. Still, both these kinds of airships, 
semi- and non-rigid, can directly accompany the 
troops, and be used an3^where. This renders them al- 
ways much more useful for military purposes than 
Zeppelin's system, which is, moreover, much more 
dependent on the weather, and has yet to prove its 
military worth. 

It is, of course, an advantage if sheds can be pro- 
vided sometimes for semi-rigid and non-rigid airships, 
as we then need not empty and refill the balloons 
again when in daily use. Portable sheds, taken into 
the field, will benefit these airships too. 



CHAPTER V 
THE IMPORTANCE OF CAVALRY 



CHAPTER V 

THE IMPORTANCE OF CAVALRY 

The fire of modern rifles and guns has deeply affected 
the tactics of the three arms, as we have seen. While 
it has altered only the form of fighting of infantry 
and artillery, and the manner of their tactical employ- 
ment, without touching the importance of both these 
arms as a whole, and within the army, it has had a 
far greater influence on cavalry. Not only the tactical 
formations used by cavalry in action have changed, 
but its employment is altogether different. 

The effect of modern firearms, with all its conse- 
quences, has caused occasions for successful charges 
against firearms to be of very rare occurrence in the 
latest wars, and they will be rarer still in future. Such 
charges have, however, positively ceased to be of de- 
cisive importance in battle, by reason alone of the 
comparative small numbers of cavalry. Owing to the 
enormous size of modern armies and the extent of the 
battlefields, a successful charge of even so large a body 
as a cavalry division could no longer bring about a 
decision by itself. But the cavalry has nevertheless 
hitherto stuck to the fiction that its relation to the 

other arms was still similar to what it was formerly ■ 

that an action of the three arms combined was possible 
even to-day, as in the days of Frederic and Napoleon. 
The cavalry looks now, as it looked then, upon a 
charge in battle as its paramount duty ; it has almost 

91 



92 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

deliberately closed its eyes against the far-reaching 
changes in warfare. By this it has itself barred the 
way that leads to great successes. The responsible 
military authorities have failed in the same way. Very 
reluctantly the cavalry was armed with firearms, at 
first even with quite useless weapons, and it is but 
very recently that the German cavalry got an efficient 
rifle ; its use is still looked upon as quite a subordinate 
matter. The tactical exercises of cavalry divisions are 
still carried out as of old; we still cannot bring our- 
selves to enter heart and soul upon the tasks imposed 
on us by the new order of things. Superior com- 
manders, too, are still imbued with obsolete ideas, and 
employ cavalry according to these ideas. The Em- 
peror's manoeuvres in 1909 furnish an interesting 
example of this. Cavalry owes its decline to all these 
circumstances. But whether it will gain in future the 
place due to it will, above all, depend on whether the 
rank and file will resolve with open eyes to break with 
the ideas of the past, and devote themselves to the 
tasks of the present without reserve. 

The German cavalry need not, for all that, give 
up the hope of successfully charging infantry and ar- 
tillery. Any one who wished to deduce from my re- 
marks that I thought the time for such charges was 
a thing of the past would completely misunderstand 
me. I am rather of opinion, and have always stood 
up for it, that modern infantry will sometimes present 
a favourable object for a charge, especially when it 
is a question of infantry of the second and third lines. 
If such infantry is demoralized by the dissolving in- 
fluences of modern action, is out of hand of the com- 
manders, and no longer fires deliberately, it will easily 
enough become a prey of a bold cavalry charge from 
various directions if the ground offers at least some 



THE IMPORTANCE OF CAVALRY 93 

advantages. Such situations are sure to arise even 
to-day, especially in pursuits. The enemy's artillery, 
standing far behind the foremost fighting line, can 
also often be attacked by cavalry, though not in front, 
yet from the flanks, and especially in rear, if the en- 
emy has used up his reserves. 

Obsolete I only hold to be that opinion which thinks 
that the main task of our cavalry is to co-operate di- 
rectly with the other arms and to charge in battle; 
which desires to subordinate all action of cavalry to 
this task, treats fire-fight of cavalry merely as a last 
resource, and would like to restrict the strategic free- 
dom of that arm by constant deference to its possible 
employment on the battlefield. 

If the cavalry takes the field in a future war with 
notions of that kind, it will certainly not give us that 
advantage which we otherwise can expect, and have a 
right to expect, from it. 

The relations of cavalry to the other arms, and 
altogether to the conduct of war, have, as a matter of 
fact, completely altered. An action of the three arms 
combined in the old sense, as is still hovering before 
the mind of our cavalry soldiers as a delusive ideal of 
bygone times, is no longer feasible at all. The partici- 
pation of cavalry in the decisive action of infantry 
and artillery is no longer necessary. All the more im- 
portant it is to be absolutely clear on the tasks which 
a future war will demand the cavalry to solve, and 
on the mode by which these tasks must be solved. 
The superior commanders and the cavalry itself must 
learn to deal with these problems, and prepare them- 
selves to carry them out, if the cavalry is to continue 
to be a useful instrument of war in the future. 

Reconnoitring and screening must be mentioned 
first of all in this connection. Both have eminently 



94 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

gained in importance under modern conditions. Ad- 
vantageous as it is to have as accurate and as early 
information as possible on the enemy's measures, and 
to screen our own concentrations and movements 
with the object of surprising the enemy and increasing 
thereby the chances of success, the advantage will be 
all the greater when great masses are concerned. The 
larger the armies are which are being moved, and 
the longer it therefore takes to concentrate them or 
change their direction of march, the more important 
it becomes to reconnoitre in time, so as to be able to 
initiate early enough the measures which may have 
become necessary through the facts ascertained by 
reconnaissance. Modern arms indirectly influence 
reconnaissance in so far, too, as, owing to the long- 
range and effective indirect fire of artillery, we must 
deploy for action sooner than formerly. It will be 
very exceptional for superior commanders to recon- 
noitre personally before such deployment. They are 
thus almost entirely dependent on the results of cavalry 
reconnaissance, not only for their operations, but also 
for their dispositions for battle. This makes cavalry 
reconnaissance all the more valuable, but also calls for 
greater efficiency of that arm. 

The cavalry must precede the armies as far forward 
as possible, to beat the hostile cavalry and push it 
back vigorously, so as to allow our own patrols to 
approach rapidly the hostile columns and discover 
their movements. So long as an efficient hostile 
cavalry is in the field, our own will be hampered in 
all its enterprises, and accordingly obtain little infor- 
mation. We must further bear in mind that the 
enemy's cavalry may decline to fight with cold steel, 
using the carbine instead, and be supported in this 
action by detachments composed of all arms. The 



THE IMPORTANCE OF CAVALRY 95 

cavalry must therefore be prepared to undertake in- 
dependent operations of an extensive nature and be 
able to beat by dismounted action strong hostile 
forces, or to turn them. If it can do both, then, and 
only then, will it carry out its object. 

Offensive power is, however, not enough for cav- 
alry; it must have also learned to push out its recon- 
noitring bodies rapidly and systematically, and to send 
back as fast as it possibly can to the headquarters 
concerned the early information it has obtained. Great 
horsemanship, combined with daring boldness and 
vigilance of patrols and reconnoitring squadrons, are 
necessary to attain these objects; all mechanical means 
must, moreover, be used to promote rapidity of gain- 
ing and transmitting intelligence of decisive impor- 
tance. The army cavalry must therefore be equipped 
and conversant with wireless telegraphy, telephones, 
signalling apparatus, and flying machines. The cav- 
alry must also keep as much as possible in constant 
touch with any dirigible airships that may be avail- 
able. The airships must arrange their action so as to 
work ahead of the cavalry, and furnish it with intelli- 
gence about large concentrations of the enemy or their 
approach to enable the cavalry to adopt its measures 
accordingly. These ships must therefore beat the en- 
emy's airships and flyers, and start early to meet them 
with that object. To ensure co-operation in recon- 
naissance on land and in the air, it will often be ad- 
visable to place the cavalry and airships under one 
uniform command. The intimate co-operation of 
these two arms will best ensure success. We will also 
be obliged to attach to the cavalry specially designed 
guns to support our airships in their fight against 
those of the enemy, or to fight them independently. 

Early reconnaissance is particularly important to 



96 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

that party which has resolved to remain on the de- 
fensive, strategically or tactically. That party has 
then surrendered the initiative to the enemy, and must 
conform to his will. It cannot arrange for suitable 
measures of defence until sufficiently informed as to 
the grouping and main direction of attack of the en- 
emy; it runs the risk of being too late with these de- 
fensive measures, if it does not receive correct intelli- 
gence about the enemy's measures in ample time. At 
the same time, it will be its concern to screen the po- 
sition of its own reserves, so as to deliver a counter- 
attack by surprise. The assailant, on the other hand, 
who seizes the initiative and imposes his will on the 
enemy, is in the first instance interested in screening 
his concentration and his main direction of attack so 
as to act by surprise, and thus make it impossible for 
the enemy to adopt his counter-measures in time. But 
it is also desirable for him to gain a knowledge of the 
strength and grouping of the hostile reserves, so that 
he may not come unexpectedly on stronger forces than 
he had anticipated. In this way the cavalry has al- 
ways to face the double task of simultaneously recon- 
noitring and screening; and it will often have to de- 
cide on which of these activities it has to lay the 
greatest stress. When screening, it will, above all, 
be a question of warding off with firearms any hostile 
attacks, because effective screening is, generally only 
possible by defensive action in combination with 
ground. Sometimes only when advancing must we try 
to screen offensively by boldly attacking every hostile 
party, down to a single patrol, pushing them back, and 
endeavouring to capture the enemy's dispatch-riders. 
If screening is to be supported by airships and flyers, 
it can be only done offensively by attacking the hostile 
aerial fleet and trying to render it harmless. 



THE IMPORTANCE OF CAVALRY 97 

When we are reconnoitring, and not screening, we 
must always try to come to close quarters with cold 
steel, as we wish to attain our object quickly, and 
must therefore decide an action rapidly, and that can 
only be done by charging. In case of need only, when 
there is no other course open, must we have recourse 
to the carbine. Since both parties have an equal in- 
terest, as a rule, in gaining rapid success, we are 
justified in assuming that during the first period of 
a war there will be great cavalry charges, and that 
only that party will have recourse to firearms which, 
from experience, has become aware of the enemy's 
superiority when charging ; the party using its firearms 
must then be beaten by dismounted action as well. 
From this it follows that cavalry, intent on carrying 
out its duties, must also prove superior in dismounted 
action, so as not to lose in fire action the superiority 
it has gained with cold steel. 

In addition to reconnoitring and screening, the 
cavalry must at all cost act on the enemy's lines of 
communication. This is of the utmost importance in 
modern war. The larger the armies, the less they are 
able to live on the country; the quicker and the 
farther the firearms shoot, the more ammunition will 
be spent. In equal measure grows the importance of 
supplies and of the lines of communication; the in- 
terruption of regular supplies may prove then all the 
more fatal. Here, therefore, is a field for the cavalry 
to achieve far-reaching successes. Even tactical de- 
cisions may be affected, at least indirectly, by the 
enemy's supplies of ammunition being cut ofT directly 
in rear of the battlefield. 

In view of these dangers threatened by cavalry, 
both parties will take pains to guard in suflficient 
strength with troops, at least of the second and third 



98 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

lines, those communications which may be endangered. 
It will therefore not be easy for the attacking cavalry 
to carry out its mission. It will not only have to beat 
the enemy's cavalry, which will certainly oppose it, 
off the field, but it must also operate independently 
on the flank and in rear of the enemy for days, and 
perhaps for weeks, entirely separated from its own 
army, and be able to capture by swift attack any sup- 
ply columns on the march or while parking, as well as 
depots on the lines of communication. The cavalry 
must therefore be specially equipped for these duties, 
and have substantial fighting power, not only mounted, 
but above all dismounted. If its own strength is not 
sufficient, cyclists must be attached to it, because a 
combination of cavalry with cyclists will undoubtedly 
prove altogether extremely effective. 

Fears have been expressed that enterprises against 
the enemy's communications might jeopardize the par- 
ticipation of cavalry in battle, and thus, of course, its 
participation in pursuit or covering retreat as well. 
The German cavalry training, too, warns, as it were, 
against these kinds of enterprises,* because the cavalry 
might be diverted from what is still considered its 
paramount duty — namely, charging in battle. Views 
forming the basis of such regulations are in no way 
in harmony with the requirements of modern war, 
and completely misjudge the relative value of employ- 
ing troops. I think, moreover, that the objection of 
raids diverting a well-led cavalry from its proper 
duties is perfectly untenable. If the raid is made in 
a decisive direction — that is to say, in a direction in 
which the commander-in-chief has decided to bring 
about the final issue; if the cavalry commander is 

* "Exerzier Reglement fur die Kavallerie," paragraphs 
527 and 395. 



THE IMPORTANCE OF CAVALRY 99 

kept constantly informed of the intentions of general 
headquarters and on the general situation, which seems 
feasible by wireless telegraphy or by some other means, 
he can easily move towards the enemy's army when 
the crisis is approaching, and appear on the day of 
battle on the flanks and in rear of the adversary like 
Stuart at Gettysburg. The raid itself will lead him 
in the decisive direction. 

He who wants to keep the cavalry always in close 
proximity to the flanks or even behind the battle-front, 
will never derive any advantage from that arm under 
modern conditions ; the cavalry will in that case stand 
idling about on the battlefield, vainly waiting for its 
chances to come. Freedom and movement, together 
with every kind of action, are the life and soul of that 
arm, which is bound to decay if it does not succeed in 
adapting itself to modern requirements. 

The cavalry in the North American War of Seces- 
sion, approaching its tasks with an unbiassed mind and 
not being hampered by tradition and routine, soon 
found the right way for great activity. The South 
African War, too, is very instructive in this respect. 
General Buller, who seems to have been still imbued 
with perfectly antiquated ideas about cavalry, always 
wanted to have that arm on his flanks to cover them, 
even when they were not at all threatened ; he thus 
hampered all freedom of action of cavalry. The con- 
sequence was that his cavalry did nothing. General 
French, on the other hand, took the opposite stand. 
Extensive raids around the enemy against his flanks 
and rear was the principle of his action, and he would 
have done even more than he did in this direction, 
had not General Roberts repeatedly clipped his wings 
and held him tight, and had not the horses completely 
broken down. But the fundamental ideas of his 



loo HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

cavalry leading were undoubtedly right, strategically 
as well as tactically. A warm adherent of cold steel 
and ever ready to charge, he still knew the full value 
and importance of the firearm, and never hesitated to 
attack dismounted whenever it suited the case. 

But it has not only been asserted that raids against 
the enemy's lines of communication will jeopardize 
the cavalry's participation in battle — it has been 
further asserted that these kinds of enterprises are 
not at all possible under modern conditions. The 
numerous lines of communication-defence troops, and 
the extensive telegraphic system of European theatres 
of war, would make it always possible to concentrate 
superior forces against such cavalry and paralyse its 
action. I think this view is wrong. 

Certainly, at the beginning of the war occasions for 
such enterprises will be rare. When the French army 
is concentrating on one line from the Belgian to the 
Swiss frontiers, we cannot dispatch a cavalry corps on 
the French lines of communication. But when, during 
the course of the war, different and separate army 
groups will be forming — as will always be the case — 
a suitably-equipped cavalry will certainly be able to 
operate against the enemy's flanks and rear. If we 
study the campaign of 1870-71 from this point of 
view, we shall not be long before we arrive at this 
conviction.* Of course, the troops employed on such 
a raid must not only have considerable fighting power, 
but must also be equipped with columns and trains 

* The German General Staff, too, seems to share my opin- 
ion. When discussing the great Russian raid under Misht- 
shenko against the Hues of communication of the Japanese, 
the General Staff holds my view that the second period of 
the war in 1870-71 shows a whole number of cases where 
such raids could have been carried out successfully, and 
expressly emphasizes that the failure of the Russians was 



THE IMPORTANCE OF CAVALRY loi 

capable of moving as rapidly as the troops themselves, 
making them, for some time at least, independent of 
the country, as well as of their own lines of communi- 
cation. By destroying the enemy's railway and tele- 
graph lines, as well as by spreading false intelligence, 
the raiding-corps must try to keep the enemy uncer- 
tain about its activity, and render his concentration 
for a counter-offensive difficult. By demonstrative 
movements, and rapid marches, sometimes carried out 
at night, the corps must deceive the enemy, escape 
his countermoves, and appear where the blow is least 
expected. It is, of course, altogether presumed that 
these demands are met when cavalry is employed in- 
dependently in this way as well as in reconnaissance 
and pursuit. If these demands are satisfied, the raids 
will prove feasible too. Their importance is generally 
underrated. I not only think them possible, but a 
downright necessity, as we shall see when we deal with 
the strategic operations ; and I believe that raids will 
not only favourably influence the decisive issue in bat- 
tle, but also lead the cavalry in a favourable direction 
on the battlefield itself. 

At the final issue of battle the cavalry divisions can 
also take their due share only if they are able to act 
with firearms in considerable strength. There being 
no longer any question of cavalry co-operating con- 
stantly and closely with the other arms in the way it 
is still done with infantry and artillery, the cavalry, 
combined into large masses, must try to intervene 
from the flanks of the line of battle, and to become 
effective chiefly by the direction of its attack. That 

no proof against the feasibility of such enterprises in future. 
("The Russo-Japanese War: German Official Account, the 
Raid to Yin-kou, and the Battle of San-de-pu," vol. v. 
Hugh Rees, Ltd.) 



102 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

must be made against the flanks and rear of the en- 
emy. Its mobihty enables the cavalry to envelop the 
enemy's flanks and penetrate to his rear. It must not 
be afraid of abandoning, then, altogether its own lines 
of communication for the time being. It will always 
be able to regain them again. If it is opposed by the 
enemy's cavalry, that cavalry must be attacked with- 
out hesitation, beaten, and pursued with portions of the 
force. This is presumed for all further enterprise. If 
it is successfully accomplished, then the road is open 
to great achievements. The moment has now arrived 
when the cavalry can render invaluable services to 
the other arms, though not in direct co-operation, by 
drawing upon itself hostile troops, and preventing 
them from intervening in the decisive issue. The vic- 
torious cavalry will first employ its artillery, machine- 
guns, and, if need be, its carbines against the enemy's 
flanks, reserves, artillery, and ammunition columns, 
and use every opportunity for acting offensively, 
mounted and dismounted, without, however, engaging 
in an obstinate fight against superior numbers. Its 
mobility enables it here again to get away, and rapidly 
reappear at another place. The cavalry must per- 
petually try to threaten and damage the enemy where 
he would feel it most, but must reserve its main fight- 
ing power for the moments of the crisis. At these 
moments it must not mind heavy losses if it can effec- 
tively contribute to gaining victory. It will reso- 
lutely attack and push back in good time the detach- 
ments the enemy has pushed forward for protecting 
his flanks and rear, and thus have the road clear when 
the final crisis arrives. It is then of great consequence 
that the cavalry should act effectively at all costs, and 
intervene in the decisive combat itself by charging, 
if that can be done, otherwise by fire action. 



THE IMPORTANCE OF CAVALRY 103 

Of great importance is, lastly, the co-operation of 
cavalry in pursuit. Direct pursuit in front, as will 
naturally follow from the nature of the fight, must, 
of course, be chiefly left to the infantry and artillery, 
armed as they are to-day, because the bullet reaches 
farther and surer than the swiftest charge. But to 
pursue along the flanks of the enemy is the share of 
the cavalry, which must try to forestall the hostile 
march-columns, break into their flanks, and head them 
off, especially at places where the ground is favour- 
able for causing delay to the flying enemy. The vic- 
tory having been bought with streams of blood, the 
time has now come for reaping the harvest by in- 
flicting on the retreating enemy losses twofold and 
threefold the amount we have suffered. Fire and 
cavalry charges — where the demoralization of the en- 
emy allows it — must do here equal damage. 

The fact that vigorous pursuit was never under- 
taken by cavalry in recent times, at least not in Euro- 
pean theatres of war, has led people to think very 
often that the idea of cavalry pursuit is mere the- 
ory, and can never be turned into practice. I do not 
share this opinion, but think that this fact is simply 
due to the manner in which cavalry was employed,. and 
to its defective equipment. 

It is clear, then, that in almost all its spheres of 
action the importance of cavalry in war has very 
much increased with the growth of armies, though its 
employment differs somewhat from that of former 
times. But that army is sure to derive a great ad- 
vantage which is firmly resolved to discard antiquated 
views and assign to its properly equipped cavalry 
those duties which modern arms and military exigen- 
cies have imposed upon it. 



I04 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 



NOTE 

[The March of Great Armies — General von Bernhardi 
discusses in detail the problem of the marching and supply 
of the great masses of men that form the armies of to-day. 
He points out that in order to diminish the length of the 
columns it will often be necessary to use the whole width 
of the road and march in double column, cyclist and motor 
companies of engineers going out in front to clear away 
obstacles and widen the road at difficult points. He also 
discusses the question of marching across country and night 
marching: 

"Owing to the many roads sometimes required, but not 
available in the operations of large armies, we may want to 
shorten the march columns with a view to accelerating con- 
centration on the one hand, and on the other of facilitating 
supplying the troops from the rear. To attain these objects, 
double columns of route are used. This makes the march 
itself more difficult, especially on dusty and bad roads; but 
it is only feasible if the roads permit the march to be con- 
tinued on such a broad front during the whole time it lasts, 
or if narrow portions of the road can be turned. It is there- 
fore advisable, if such difficulties are anticipated, to bring 
up some engineers who, covered by cavalry and cyclists, 
precede the column with the object of widening the road 
where necessary, of marking out a military road, or of 
making fords passable. We must, at any rate, avoid form- 
ing again the single column of route during the march. 

Similar reasons to those necessitating the shortening of 
columns of route may sometimes induce us to march across 
country. When turning defiles, when deploying for action, 
and on other occasions, we must often leave the regular 
roads altogether. The troops must, therefore, be practised 
also in marching across country, so as to get rapidly over 
any difficulties that may arise. 

The idea of performing long marches across country 
seems somewhat monstrous in our eyes to-day. We are so 
spoiled in making our operations dependent on roads that we 
can scarcely realize any other mode of operating. And yet 
it is quite natural, requiring nothing that has not been 
proved possible by the experience of wars of former times. 



NOTE 105 

Frederic the Great's army often marched for miles across 
country. I need only mention Schwerin's advance to the 
Battle of Prague as an example of this. Engineer parties 
were often attached to the heads of columns to remove or 
bridge likely obstacles. We see these measures adopted 
already in the First Silesian War. Artillery and transport, 
if possible, used roads. We have not the least cause for 
assuming that what was possible then would be impossible 
to-day. The opposite is true. The engineers are to-day 
far more efficient than formerly, and the country is gener- 
ally more cultivated and richer in roads. Even when we are 
marching across country we can now and then use roads, 
though not first-class roads, of course. There is no reason, 
either, why the artillery and transport of, say, two army 
corps should not march to-day, as then, on the road, while 
the infantry is marching on both sides of it, advanced guards 
going ahead, marking out and making possible the way for 
the infantry. This procedure may sometimes be very much 
more practical than marching two army corps behind each 
other by one road, or shortening the march columns. One 
thing is, of course, necessary, and that is that when march- 
ing in this way there must be one uniform command. If 
there is no metalled road at all, the artillery must move 
across country, too, and, in case of need, the necessary 
transports as well, if the object cannot be reached by a 
roundabout way. The marches must then be made shorter. 
Engineers will, in such cases, always precede the column. 
It will be as well to make frequent changes in the units 
marching at the head of the column, because they have the 
hardest task. If the track across country is once firmly 
trodden down, there are, as a rule, no longer any special 
difficulties. Of course, we do not march like this at ordi- 
nary times; but when large armies are closely concentrated 
marching in this way may greatly enhance their power of 
operating. Naturally, it is always desirable to have the 
country to be traversed reconnoitred beforehand. 

"Like marches across country, so will night marches be- 
come necessary in a future war more frequently than hith- 
erto. They will be used to escape, for instance, reconnais- 
sance by balloons, to avoid losses by artillery fire, or to ap- 
proach the enemy's position unobserved. If marches have to 
be executed across country in the dark, it is absolutely 



io6 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

necessary to reconnoitre the country minutely beforehand 
and to fix landmarks which cannot be missed even in dark- 
ness. Such marches cannot -be arranged off-hand; they 
must be carefully prepared. The troops, too, must be prac- 
tised in them, and acquire a certain amount of skill in 
marching by night if they wish to avoid disorder at de- 
cisive moments. At night we should not march in double 
column on roads, because difficulties increase in darkness, 
and controlling the column is easier if one side of the road 
is left free. But when- marching across country it will be 
advisable sometimes to execute the movement in shorter 
and broader columns, so as to keep the troops better in 
hand." 

In discussing the question of supply, he points out that 
with the huge masses of to-day it is impossible for an army 
to live on the resources of the country. It must depend on 
supply trains — usually of motor wagons — working from the 
nearest railhead, and drawing supplies of food, ammuni- 
tion, etc., from magazines accumulated at advanced bases. 
This makes the problem of changing the direction of the 
advance a difficult one, and an operation against the line of 
communications, if successful, will have a greater effect than 
ever before, for the result will be that immense masses of 
troops will be in danger of starvation. He insists that 
instead of working the supply of a group of army corps as 
a single unit, it will be necessary to provide each corps 
with its special supply train, carrying such a reserve of 
supplies as will make it possible to keep the corps sup- 
plied for a few days either when the communications are 
endangered, or when a change of direction is being made 
and the whole general system of supply is being transferred 
to a new group of roads. He analyzes in detail several 
possible changes of direction in order to show how in each 
case the problem of temporarily supplying the troops and 
shifting the lines of supply may be best solved. He then 
returns to the general question of the handling of great 
armies in war.] 



CHAPTER VI 
SELF-RELIANCE, METHOD, AND COMMAND 



CHAPTER VI 

SELF-RELIANCE, METHOD, AND COMMAND 

We have seen that the fire of modern arms forces us 
to give up all close formations in action, and to form 
loose skirmishing lines in the foremost fighting line, 
as loosely as the necessity of effective fire will permit. 
The fronts in action correspond with this looseness, 
and with the wider extension of the skirmishing lines 
caused by it. The same number of troops can to-day 
embrace a far greater space than formerly if a greater 
organization in depth is not insisted upon. The artil- 
lery is, owing to the distant fire of the enemy's artil- 
lery, obliged to use indirect fire. The cavalry has al- 
most completely disappeared from the common battle- 
field of the other arms. With the enormous size of the 
army have also grown enormously the extent of the 
battlefields and the areas of operation. The vital 
points in the existence of armies, their organization, 
and the method of moving them, are altogether differ- 
ent from what they were formerly. All this causes an 
absolute change in the formal conditions of strategy 
and tactics. 

But with the forms so also have changed the spirit- 
ual means which give life to these forms. The army 
and its leaders must of course be animated by bold- 
ness and initiative as much, and, perhaps, even more 
to-day than in the wars of the past, if we want to be 
successful. But the physical and moral qualities by 

109 



no HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

which this spirit must manifest itself are, on the other 
hand, in many ways, different from those prevailing at 
the time of close formations. Especially must the in- 
fluence of command be different from what it was 
formerly. In this regard no one has as yet arrived 
at a perfectly clear conception of what it should be, 
and in spite of completely altered conditions in actions 
and in operations, tendencies assert themselves over 
and over again, of working with means belonging to 
a past age. The latest wars show this in a striking 
manner. 

It is, therefore, necessary to acquaint oneself 
thoroughly with the actual nature of modern war and 
combat, with the object of arriving at a perfectly clear 
conception of them. 

Let us first of all present to our minds what a mod- 
ern action demands from the two chief arms, and be- 
fore all what the mode of action is which decides 
matters, namely, the attack, without which a victory 
can hardly be conceived. The infantry advances in 
widely-extended lines. The influence of commanders, 
as far as it is transmitted by orders, is small. Exten- 
sion is too great, the noise of battle too loud, the 
tension of nerves too severe for the voice to be heard. 
Laboriously the most urgent directions are passed on 
along the line from man to man. At close and decisive 
ranges the example of the officers only prevails. But 
the enemy's projectiles reap a terrible harvest, par- 
ticularly among the leaders, who are obliged to expose 
themselves most. All influence upon the men then 
fails, units become mixed, everybody is left to him- 
self; the man as such becomes prominent, yet not the 
man who is led to victory, but the man who wants 
himself to conquer. Almost all the time he is in ac- 
tion he is left to himself. He himself must estimate 



SELF-RELIANCE, METHOD, COMMAND iii 

the distances, he himself must judge the ground and 
use it, select his target and adjust his sights; he must 
know whither to advance; what point in the enemy's 
position he is to reach ; with unswerving determination 
he by himself must strive to get there. Arrived in 
the enemy's position, he must know what he is to do. 
If the attack is not progressing, if it is impossible to 
gain ground in the face of the enemy's fire, he must 
create cover for himself. If it comes to reteating, he 
must obstinately cling to the ground fighting.* Hardly 
ever can he count upon receiving directions from his 
superiors. But what holds good for the private, holds 
good all the more for the leaders of all grades. They 
cannot count upon receiving orders in the midst of 
fighting. It is as a rule impossible to send directions 
from the rear into the foremost fighting line. To 
count upon reliable communication by signs from the 
rear to the front is a fancy no serious soldier should 
entertain for one moment. Once the troops have 
come within effective ranges of the enemy's fire all 
regular and comprehensive issue of orders ceases. All 
success is entirely dependent on the clear-sighted ac- 
tion of individual groups and men, on the example 
of leaders, or of those who feel called upon to lead. 
This is what a modern infantry action looks like; 
self-reliance is everything. It was so, it is true, in the 
last wars, during the final stages of infantry combat, 
but in future the stage where initiative is everything 
will begin much sooner than formerly, and from the 
outset in a manner much more pronounced. 

Artillery action will reveal similar features. So 
long as the batteries are under cover, are firing indi- 
rect, and are exposed only to sweeping and searching 

* Vide V. Bernhardi, "Taktik und Ausbildung der Infan- 
terie." 



112 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

fire, regular control can certainly be exercised over 
large units. But when artillery has to unlimber in the 
open, and can be taken under fire, the effect of which 
the enemy can watch, not only the combined action 
of large units, but the issue of orders by battery com- 
manders themselves will soon fail, or sometimes be- 
come altogether impossible. Sections and single guns 
will be obliged to fire independently, as often was 
the case in 1870-71 ; for the voice of the officer com- 
manding the battery will not be heard, transmission 
by word of mouth will likewise become impossible in 
the din of battle, and soon numerous officers will have 
fallen. I am convinced we are deceiving ourselves 
if we believe a regular control of fire to be possible 
under these circumstances. The self-reliance of in- 
dividual subordinate leaders and men, and not a uni- 
form control, will be the decisive factor in the last 
instance. 

These conditions are bound to exercise a far-reach- 
ing influence on the issue of orders. The troops can 
only act with self-reliance in a proper manner if they 
are thoroughly and sufficiently informed as to the in- 
tentions of the commander and the object of the fight. 
During the action itself any communication can reach 
the troops, especially the infantry, in exceptional cases 
only, namely, when for the time being they have 
reached some cover, where the commanders can, on 
the one hand, deal with the troops directly, and on 
the other receive orders themselves. 

Under these circumstances the troops have to rely, 
as long as the action lasts, solely on what they knew 
about the object of the action and the co-operation of 
the various units before the battle began. This is over- 
looked too often. 

To-day the mode of issuing orders in manoeuvres 



SELF-RELIANCE, METHOD, COMMAND 113 

is such that the troops often do not get a combined 
operation order at all. Special instructions are often 
given to commanders of units alone when charged 
with a definite task. The connection of this indi- 
vidual task with the whole plan of action is very often 
not apparent in these instructions. That commander 
then issues his orders in a similar manner. In this 
way every one, of course, gets to know his special 
duty, but rarely how to co-operate with neighbouring 
bodies. Even if the superior authorities have issued 
an actual operation order, the effect is mostly the same. 
Only superior commanders become acquainted with it, 
issuing but parts of it as a rule to their subordinates. 
And so it happens that even brigadiers and colonels 
are often unable to get a clear view of the situation. 
Captains, to crown all, know nothing at all, as a rule, 
about the plan of battle, merely receiving for their 
companies som.e direction from the battalion com- 
mander, who habitually counts upon being able to 
send further orders to the troops during the action 
by his adjutant, because of real danger there is none 
in peace time. At the same time superior commanders 
are too frequently found in the foremost line, where 
they can survey all, and adopt suitable measures, with- 
out realizing that all this is impossible in real action. 

We must break with this system altogether. A new 
method of issuing orders must take its place, if we 
do not wish command to fail on active service; for 
what we have practised in peace will be done habitu- 
ally in war, however impracticable it may be. 

In order to prevent the self-reliance of the various 
groups and men leading to confusion during battle, 
and that they may act in accordance with the inten- 
tions of Headquarters, it is imperative to adhere rigor- 
ously to a systematic issue of orders before entering 



114 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

battle. Everybody must know so much of the general 
situation as is requisite for him to know within the 
sphere of his command, to enable him to act with 
self-reliance under any circumstances, even should the 
conditions be found to differ from what the order 
presumed, or change in the course of action. He only 
who knows the plan of the whole is able to act suitably 
in sudden emergencies. There will certainly be cases 
when there is no time to proceed systematically and 
when the situation calls for prompt and instantaneous 
action; but the conditions of modern war generally 
require and allow orders to be issued in detail and 
systematically, because the attack must begin far 
away from the enemy, and the reserves must as a rule 
be held back far in rear. Prompt action, too, as oc- 
casion may demand, which precludes us from issuing 
detailed and special orders, can take the most correct 
and suitable form only if based on the general situa- 
tion previously made known. The successful attacks 
in future will materially depend on the first measures 
adopted and on the method of issuing orders. General 
Headquarters must, therefore, always issue a clear and 
comprehensive operation order distinctly showing the 
object of the battle, the general plan, and the co-opera- 
tion of the various parts ; and this order must not be 
communicated to the superior commanders alone; 
everybody must know its essential portions. 

The same principles hold good for the defence, ex- 
cept that here all is naturally less difficult. In a de- 
liberate defence there will surely always be time 
enough for regular and detailed orders to be issued; 
and also during the battle itself, especially when the 
fighting troops are lying under cover, it will often be 
possible for orders to reach them. 

It is necessary, also, to issue to the artillery orders 



SELF-RELIANCE, METHOD, COMMAND 115 

which will enable and permit everybody to act with 
self-reliance. It is not at all enough to indicate to 
the various artillery brigades and batteries their posi- 
tions and targets. Far more important is it for all 
to be informed on the tactical object of the lire. The 
artillery must know the task given to the infantry in 
the battle, and must be in a position to judge fully 
how it can best aid the infantry in solving its task, 
so that all subordinates, knowing the situation, are 
perfectly free to act with self-reliance at the given 
moment. 

Acting with self-reliance in the sense and spirit of 
General Headquarters, and of the uniform plan of 
battle known to us, is the decisive factor in modern 
battle. 

Matters are somewhat different with cavalry. If 
it is used dismounted, it must, of course, be systemati- 
cally furnished with orders like any other troops ; nay, 
even more so, as there is the additional care for the 
led horses, which the commander concerned can only 
station correctly if acquainted with the general situa- 
tion and the plan of action. But in real mounted ac- 
tion detailed orders are well-nigh impossible. Every- 
thing is enacted in rapid succession, at a rapid pace, 
in the shortest possible time, and only by a brief order 
and word of command can the will of the leader pro- 
duce action. Sometimes the trumpet may also help to 
intervene. But it is possible to issue orders here in 
this way, because behind the commander are his troops 
to-day, as formerly, in close formation, able to hear 
his voice and trained to act with regularity on the 
briefest call or hint. 

If the individual is, therefore, tied here to the mass, 
all the more prominent become the initiative and self- 
reliance of the superior leaders. They must always 



ii6 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

be fully acquainted with the strategic situation from 
which the action develops ;' the general and guiding 
plan of action must be briefly communicated to them. 
They must have learnt to understand from a few 
tersely coined words the idea and the will of the 
supreme commander. They must, however, not re- 
ceive this will in the form of an order, but as a task, 
leaving them full liberty in the choice of the means 
for its execution. The supreme commander cannot 
know how the subordinate commander will find the 
situation, he cannot discount the enemy's counter- 
measures in advance, and must, therefore, leave to 
his subordinate all the more perfect freedom of action, 
as there will never be time for asking questions and 
giving subsequent directions during the rapid course 
of a cavalry action. 

If independence of action in cavalry combats is thus 
generally restricted to superior commanders, and down 
to squadron commanders only when they are charged 
with a special duty, the necessity of independent action 
of even the smallest group becomes all the more promi- 
nent when the main duties of cavalry are involved — 
namely, reconnoitring, screening, and raids on the en- 
emy's lines of communication. Reconnoitring squad- 
rons, patrols, and other detached bodies, cannot be 
given stringent orders, but only tasks, which they 
must try to solve with self-reliance, in the spirit of a 
situation about which they have been informed. They 
will often find the situation different from what the 
superior was able to tell them; it will often change in 
the course of events. Over and over again will the 
individual be called upon to show judgment and de- 
termination. A strict method and the greatest self- 
reliance must go hand in hand here, to enable every 
one to respond to this call. 



SELF-RELIANCE, METHOD, COMMAND 117 

Reconnoitring, screening, and reporting must be 
arranged systematically; the system must be clearly 
expressed in the detailed instructions given to the 
members concerned, to enable them to understand 
the connection of these three duties; this system must 
become a second nature to all the troops, so that every 
one can find his way about in it. Every individual 
member, on the other hand, must be trained in self- 
reliance and be left to exercise it, so that when the 
situation changes and the enemy's action is felt ever}^ 
one is able to act suitably in the spirit of the whole. 
The cavalry soldier must, more than any other in- 
dividual of the army, rely upon himself when on stra- 
tegic service, and upon his own judgment as well as 
upon his boldness. The amount of his self-reliance 
is at the same time the measure of his work. 

The same reciprocal effect between system and self- 
reliance as required by the combat and strategic ser- 
vice of cavalry must, under modern conditions, be 
also demanded from the conduct of operations and 
the action of the various units during the operations. 
All movements of masses must be carried out system- 
atically, if maximum performances are to be at- 
tained. In arranging the marches and regulating sup- 
ply it is absolutely necessary, as we have seen, to be 
strictly systematic, so as to prevent most serious checks 
in the movements of the whole army. Its mobility di- 
rectly depends on this system being adhered to, and 
commanders of troops must fully master its laws to 
be able to fulfil their duties. Yet the system alone 
is not enough for the proper execution of the strategic 
movements. 

Two factors appear as a disturbing element ; firstly, 
friction, which asserts itself in all actions in war, is 
caused by misunderstandings, unforeseen accidents, 



ii8 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

personal failings, and similar reasons, and will always 
exercise anew a paralysing influence on the mechan- 
ism; and, secondly, the intervention of the enemy. 
When one or the other of these disturbances in the 
systematic course of a military operation occurs, it 
is bound to have an effect all the more injurious, the 
greater the tension under which the whole and neces- 
sary system was working. In such a case there is only 
one means of keeping the entire mechanism going, 
namely, the self-reliant action of every link in the 
chain of this system, in taking care that the wants of 
the movement are first of all met by increased march 
performances of some portions and other suitable 
measures, and that next the disorder in the whole 
mechanism is again removed. 

But such self-reliant action is only possible when 
all individual members are informed on the general 
situation. Here again, therefore, arises the necessity 
for a systematic issue of orders, which, without re- 
stricting individual action more than is necessary, must 
transmit enough of the knowledge on the general situ- 
ation and the strategic object to enable the various 
portions in case of need to act with self-reliance in the 
proper manner. The modern means of communica- 
tion and intelligence certainly facilitate in all such 
cases the co-operation of every part, but for all that 
do not replace self-reliance. 

The way in which the English conducted the South 
African War is, in this respect, extremely instructive. 
Here a system of perfect centralization of command 
prevailed. Every strategic and tactical movement was 
prescribed by the central authority to the minutest 
detail ; personal initiative was confined to the narrow- 
est limits. When it appeared it was at once sup- 
pressed, and where initiative proved necessary it failed 



SELF-RELIANCE, METHOD, COMMAND 119 

nearly always. Especially when Lord Kitchener be- 
came Commander-in-Chief, centralization of com- 
mand appeared in its acutest form, giving rise to alto- 
gether stereotyped measures. The result matched the 
action. As little as they ever succeeded in beating the 
Boers decisively in the first part of the campaign, as 
little did they succeed in suppressing the guerillas in 
the second part. The self-reliant initiative of a de 
Wet, a de la Rey, and a Botha defied all the thumb- 
rule measures of British General Headquarters, which 
positively precluded all independent action of subordi- 
nate commanders. The English must confess, and 
they do confess, that their army completely failed in 
this respect* Complaints on the purely literal obedi- 
ence and want of self-reliance and initiative of the 
English generals were heard from all sides. They 
characterize the opinion the English had of their own 
army. It had apparently ceased to appreciate that 
self-reliance is everywhere necessary corollary to any 
systematic action. 

The larger the portions of an. army with which we 
have to deal, the more indepenc wi^'^e must be granted 
to them, because General Headtn'arters cannot survey 
the details so well with large^ajaies of troops as they 
can with smaller ones. ab 

A divisional commander pcows exactly where each 
of the units belonging to / a> command is at the mo- 
ment ; a general comma^e nng an army corps knows 
exactly the area occupinir by his divisions, and the 
positions of the supply d;t2J0ts apportioned to him, and, 
if his corps is marching by one road, the whole appa- 
ratus of his lines of communication. The commander 
of an army, on the other hand, is not informed on the 
interior arrangements made by the army corps. He 
* "The Times' History of the War in South Africa." 



I20 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

only deals with army corps and the lines of communi- 
cation; it is the business of the corps to arrange in 
detail the intercourse with the latter. The Comman- 
der-in-Chief finally deals with the area of operation 
and the objectives of the various armies, with the rail- 
heads and intercommunication in general. It is im- 
possible for him to survey the detailed arrangements 
of the armies, still less of the army corps. 

The larger the command of a general, the less, 
therefore, must he interfere with the details of the ar- 
rangements for which his subordinate commanders 
are responsible : for orders emanating from General 
Headquarters and interfering in matters of which the 
authority issuing the order cannot know the details, 
generally prove in feasible or cause, to say the least, 
grave inconveniences ; these grow with the size of the 
operating masses, because with them frictions and 
possible misundersujidings increase. 

This caused Fip'd-Marshal Moltke to issue no 
further orders at , ,' to the armies or independent 
army portions, bu " . send them only directives. The 
object to be attaints, was communicated to the army 
commanders, and th were given certain points of 
view on which they w. 'to act. Where their spheres 
of action came in cont. with each other, a dividing 
line was indicated, or v. portion was placed under 
the command of the othv But the mode of execut- 
ing their task was, as a \ left to the subordinate 
commanders, and only occj .ally did the Field-Mar- 
shal intervene by giving del -. e instructions on how to 
act. 

The experiences gained \. th this system were not 
always satisfactory. Repeatedly it became apparent 
that army commanders w^ere unable to grasp the spirit 
of Moltke's brief directives, because they were not 



SELF-RELIANCE, METHOD, COMMAND 121 

conversant with Moltke's train of thought. Collisions 
and strategic difficulties were the consequence. I need 
only mention the advance of the First and Second 
Armies to the Saar, and the operations against Mac- 
Mahon ending at Sedan. In both cases the mode of 
issuing orders did not suffice to bring about regular 
systematic movements. Too much independence was 
left to the subordinate commanders; they did not en- 
ter into the spirit of Moltke's orders, and the tech- 
nical difficulties of the operations ordered were neither 
recognized nor overcome. In future we shall be 
obliged to develop Moltke's system further. 

Directives of a general nature, like those given at 
that time, would not always suffice to-day for the co- 
operation of several armies.* We shall often have to 
adopt more detailed and definite measures for guaran- 
teeing uniform action in the enormous mechanism of 
modern armies and for preventing the various bodies 
from disturbing each other. The numbers are now 
greater than before in proportion to the space avail- 
able. This often causes the various portions of the 
whole army to be in close touch with each other, thus 
necessitating some definite instructions to be given. 
Yet we must again guard against going too far in 
this direction. Only what is absolutely necessary must 
be ordered. The greatest possible independence of 
the various portions must always be preserved. It 
needs much training of the mind, great tact, and a per- 
fect mastery of the technical elements of warfare to 
find the proper limits between what must be ordered 

* The directives given also by General Freiherr v. Falken- 
hausen in his book, "Flankenbewegungen und Massenheer," 
are not sufficient I think. The areas of operation of the vari- 
ous armies are not clearly defined it seems and the system 
of reconnaissance and subsistence not definitely regulated. 



122 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

and what must not be ordered. The personal char- 
acter of the subordinate must also be considered. To 
one may be left more freedom, the other we must tie 
by more definite orders. The psychological moment 
plays here a great role. At any rate, operations of 
modern armies must never be ordered which can only 
succeed if everything is arranged to the minutest de- 
tail by General Headquarters, and, as a matter of 
fact, can be so carried out. There is then still al- 
ways the danger of invincible friction being produced. 
When practising in peace, on the manoeuvre field as 
well as on the map, we are always tempted to limit 
the independence of subordinates in the interest of 
our own intentions and views, many succumbing to 
this temptation. I have repeatedly had this experience. 
At war games, when dealing with strategy, General 
Headquarters ordered operations which could only 
be executed if the marches were systematically ar- 
ranged in the minutest detail by General Headquarters 
down to the army corps and their trains. The neces- 
sary orders were dispatched in long telegrams to the 
various army corps. It was quite arbitrarily assumed 
here that the troops lived entirely on the country and 
were followed by regularly formed echelons of their 
columns and trains. The connection with the depots 
and railheads was not considered at all, else the whole 
arrangement would have been recognized as impossi- 
ble in theory alone. These assumptions were un- 
natural; the writing and transmission of the orders 
were impossible as regards time. The whole pro- 
cedure would have failed on active service, for the 
most part in the issue of orders alone. In other cases 
the lines-of -communication system would have broken 
down. And if we now imagine such a procedure tak- 
ing place, let us say, in the thinly-populated fields of 



SELF-RELIANCE, METHOD, COMMAND 123 

Russia, we shall be able to realize all the danger of 
conceiving war based on arrangements of this sort. 
Paper can stand a lot of things, but in reality we pay 
for such follies with lost battles and ruined armies. 
The temptation to issue such orders for ensuring the 
co-operation of various bodies during intricate opera- 
tions has often asserted itself in war, too. In South 
Africa, as I have mentioned before, English General 
Headquarters completely succumbed to it. During 
the so-called ''drives," for instance, a similar mode 
was adopted. Everything was ordered by General 
Headquarters, to the smallest detail, even regarding 
supply columns and their movements. Here only 
small detachments were certainly involved, scattered 
over a wide space, and an enemy consisting as a rule 
of some few hundred undisciplined Boers. Yet the 
system failed. Because of the necessity of adhering 
to the system ordered, the enemy was of less concern, 
and the Boers remained masters of the situation.* 

If, by ordering too much, we sometimes produce 
the opposite of order and co-operation, and therefore 
thoroughly fail in our object, we must never, on the 
other hand, out of regard to the self-reliance of sub- 
ordinates, be afraid of ordering plainly and distinctly 

* These "drives" were arranged in regular shooting fash- 
ion. The tract of country to be driven over for Boers lay, 
as a rule, between two blockhouse Hues approximately par- 
allel with each other. At one of the open ends troops were 
posted like sportsmen, as it were, toward whom a line of 
beaters drove the Boers from the other open end. During 
night the beaters bivouacked in small groups of about 
six men. 

All the large detachments of the Boers of course broke 
through, partly on the flanks and partly through the line of 
beaters, and then marched wherever they liked. Only strag- 
glers were caught, at the expense of an enormous amount 
of force, of money, and of Kitchener spirit. 



124 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

what is really necessary. Moreover, no subordinate 
leader must be left in the dark as to what is to be 
done. But this ''what is to be done" must always keep 
within the limits of what can be carried out practically 
without the shadow of a doubt, and must never be de- 
termined by what is merely desirable. 

A study of the Russian War in Manchuria is highly 
instructive in this respect. There was no end of or- 
ders. Every commander encroached upon the sphere 
of his subordinates, often ordering details with which 
he had nothing to do. But the troops were never 
clearly and distinctly told what they zvere to do. Su- 
perior commanders hardly ever expressed their will 
in unambiguous terms. Everybody shirked responsi- 
bility. It was never plain whether the desirable was 
really to be attained by all means. A firm resolution 
was never apparent. By this mode of issuing orders 
the firm will to conquer was ultimately drowned. 

Command in modern war demands the greatest 
amount of tact, wise self-restraint, and rigorous clear- 
ness. The problem of command is not only to move 
the troops and concentrate them for action; its task 
is the wider one of causing self-reliant action of the 
spiritual forces of the army and its leaders, and of 
producing, as if by magic, the maximum perform- 
ances, and of carrying away the whole to perform the 
greatest deeds by concentrating all self-reliance and 
all mental and moral forces upon the attainment of the 
object indicated by the Commander-in-Chief. 

It is a delusion to believe this to be possible without 
staking one's full personality, and yet we see a modern 
tendency trying to limit the very personal element in 
command. 

In an essay of the ^'German Review," called 'The 



SELF-RELIANCE, METHOD, COMMAND 125 

War of our Days," * is described in a specially strik- 
ing manner — certainly more humorously than profes- 
sionally — the kind of command people often prefer to 
call "modern" to-day: *'The Commander-in-Chief is 
further in rear in a house with spacious writing rooms, 
where wire and wireless telegraphy, telephone and 
signalling appliances are at hand, where crowds of 
motor-cars and motor-cycles, ready to go any dis- 
tance, are waiting for orders. Here, in a comfortable 
arm-chair, in front of a large table, the modern Alex- 
ander has before him the whole battlefield on a map; 
thence he telephones stirring words, and there he re- 
ceives the reports of the army and corps commanders, 
of the captive balloons, and of the dirigible airships." 

It is an idea much in vogue to-day, and given here, 
perhaps, in too extreme a form, that the Commander- 
in-Chief, the supreme leader, ought to be far behind 
the front in a central position, in rear, surrounded by 
all the adjuncts of modern technics; but, surely, the 
question instinctively rises in all of us, whether it is 
really imperative for the General-in-Chief to abandon, 
as here described, all personal influence, and to con- 
fine himself to telephoning from the arm-chair "stir- 
ring" words, the stirring force of which may then be 
fairly doubted. 

It seems to me, we must not judge of matters in 
this one-sided and summary fashion, as was done 
there. 

First of all, I think we must make a difference be- 
tween strategic and tactical command. The opera- 
tions of the army must, of course, be directed from 
a central office as was done by General Headquarters 
in 1870-71. 

* Deutsche Revue, January, 1909, ''Der Krieg der Gegen- 
wart." 



126 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

At such a place the Commander-in-Chief can dis- 
pose over all the necessary rooms maps, and all 
the means for issuing orders. Here will also con- 
verge all the means of communication — chiefly, there- 
fore, telegraph lines — for keeping General Headquar- 
ters constantly informed of all that is happening, and 
of the course of operations, and for transmitting its 
orders. Efforts will be made to change quarters not 
too often, so as not to interrupt too much consecutive 
work. General Headquarters therefore follows the 
army only by stages. Army Headquarters manages 
in a similar manner so long as the operations are pro- 
ceeding and the troops are marching, while, of course. 
Army Corps Headquarters will always remain with 
their troops. 

But matters are altogether different the moment 
tactical command is involved. Here we shall have 
to distinguish between cases of a varying nature; for 
the manner of command must be quite different when 
a single army is fighting a battle, or when even several 
armies are fighting united on the battlefield, from 
what it must be in a great battle, in which the bulk 
of the forces of the whole army are taking part in 
various distant groups. 

In the latter case it may sometimes be imperative, 
owing to the great extent of the battlefield or owing 
to the distances apart from each other of the various 
local battlefields, for the Commander-in-Chief to re- 
main in centrally situated headquarters, though the 
necessity for such action will surely not always arise. 
But his activity in that case will be altogether different 
from what the anonymous author of the ''German 
Review" depicts. The Commander-in-Chief will then, 
of course, only deal with his army commanders ; from 
them alone he receives reports, to them alone will he 



SELF-RELIANCE, METHOD, COMMAND 127 

send his instructions. He will allow himself to inter- 
fere with the details of army commands, and to send 
orders to individual corps, only in exceptional and 
urgent cases. He will retain direct command only 
over reserves and sometimes over detached bodies. 
He will, no doubt, also abstain from sending stirring 
messages by telephone. All reports and news about 
the enemy, however, are not received by him in the 
first instance, but by the army commanders who con- 
trol the dirigible airships, captive balloons, and other 
reconnoitring organs. The army commanders, on 
their part again, deal directly only with the corps com- 
manders, no matter whether the former are personally 
present on the battlefield or not. The main task of 
the Commander-in-Chief is, in such a case, to draw 
the strategic consequences from the results of the in- 
dividual tactical decisions; with these he reckons as if 
with given factors. 

Things, however, will take a different aspect when 
we have to deal with the battle of a single army, or 
with the combined battle of several armies — with bat- 
tles, therefore, like those of St. Privat and Sedan. 
The Commander-in-Chief will in such a case certainly 
make use of all the technical adjuncts as well, in order 
to keep in touch with the various subordinate bodies; 
he will establish himself in a central spot, whereto all 
the means of communication converge. But he is not 
at all obliged to look for such a central place far from 
the battlefield. The very perfection of the mechanical 
means of communication makes him independent of 
any field position. Nor is he personally at all tied 
permanently to this central spot — to the arm-chair of 
a modern Alexander; for has he not the mechanical 
means of keeping in constant communication with it? 
He will, therefore, not let himself be deprived of the 



128 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

privilege, should he think it necessary, of intervening 
personally at the decisive points of the battlefield, and 
of inspiring the troops by His personality, as the great 
captains in every age have done. 

Be the battlefield ever so extended, at one spot of 
the wide front the plot laid by the strategic and tacti- 
cal conditions will thicken to a crisis. That is the 
point where the director of battle must be also found 
in future. Here his personal intervention may be of 
decisive importance, especially when troops of co-ordi- 
nate commanders are required to co-operate, as, for 
instance, was the case at St. Privat. 

Two German armies were united here for battle — 
namely, the First and Second Armies. They encoun- 
tered the enemy's position on a broad front. As soon 
as its extent was recognized, a glance on the map 
should have sufficed to reveal the fact that St. Privat 
was the decisive point. The French left wing was 
leaning direct on the strongest works of the fortress. 
Here the greatest possible resistance was to be ex- 
pected. Even if this wing had been successfully 
pushed back, it would only have brought the victor 
imder the guns of the St. Quentin and Plappeville 
Forts. It was, moreover, then still possible for the 
French to retreat north, provided their right wing 
held its ground. But if the Height of St. Privat was 
captured, the whole position of the French army be- 
came impossible, the army being hopelessly pushed 
into the fortress. It was, therefore, merely a question 
of pinning the French forces to the ground along the 
whole length of their front; at the most, an attempt 
might have been made to support the frontal attack 
by enveloping the French left flank through the Bois 
de Vaux. But at St. Privat it was necessary to defeat 
the enemy. Here the Guard and Twelfth Corps were 



SELF-RELIANCE, METHOD, COMMAND 129 

to co-operate. It was of the utmost importance to 
ensure their united and uniform action. But General 
Headquarters was not far from Gravelotte on the 
right wing, and Prince Frederic Charles was standing 
at Habonville, likewise far away from the decisive 
field. And so the co-operation of the two corps on 
the left flank was left more or less to chance, and it 
was merely owing to the goodwill prevailing every- 
where that it was brought about at all. When the 
First Brigade of Guards attacked, the Forty-fifth In- 
fantry Brigade was standing at the little wood of 
Auboue, intervening just in time on its own initiative 
when, in the moment of the crisis Lieutenant v. Ese- 
beck, likewise on his own initiative, called its atten- 
tion to the serious struggle of the Guards. The Forty- 
eighth and Forty-sixth Infantry Brigades were but 
coming up. The Forty-seventh was standing in re- 
serve behind St. Marie-aux-Chenes, after having taken 
part in the assault on that village. A combined order 
for both army corps was altogether wanting; each 
acted in the way it thought best. If Army Head- 
quarters had been on the spot here, matters would have 
been materially different. 

Similar examples could be freely quoted from the 
Russo-Japanese War. If, for instance, Kuropatkin 
had been in person on the battlefield of Sandepu, he 
would have convinced himself of the advantage the 
situation presented, and could have altered his orders, 
which were paralysing the attack. But he remained 
in the central position, and meanwhile the battle was 
lost. 

Whatever we may think, it is always the personal 
opinion, based on what we see with our own eyes, 
which is of decisive importance on the battlefield, be- 
cause here not only comes into play the mutual rela- 



I30 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

tionship of time, space, and force, as in strategic 
operations, but also directly those imponderable fac- 
tors, which, produced at the moment can only be ap- 
preciated when personally seen; it shows that he who 
voluntarily keeps away from the battlefield without 
any necessity for it, abandons at the same time the 
best part of what he can perform personally. The 
moment the Commander-in-Chief has become aware 
of the point where the main issue will be brought 
about, he must not hesitate to go there and separate 
himself temporarily from his centre of intelligence, 
with which he will, however, remain constantly in 
communication. 

We here become aware of one of the advantages of 
the offensive. The Commander-in-Chief of the at- 
tacking army knows, as a rule, where he will decide the 
issue; he can go there in person and accordingly ar- 
range from the outset his whole intelligence service. 
But the General-in-Chief of the defending army must 
await the development of the attack before he can 
judge where the decisive issue will be forced on him, 
or where he himself will enforce it. It is only then 
that he can select a suitable position for himself and 
arrange for his intelligence service. That is one of 
the disadvantages consequent on giving up the initia- 
tive. Kuropatkin could have been on the spot on 
the morning of the attack at Sandepu, and could have 
at once adopted the most comprehensive measures. 
Oyama could not go until the decisive importance of 
the Russian attack had been recognized. He was 
bound to have the last hand in all his counter-measures 
in regard to space as well as to time. But neither 
ought he to have allowed himself to be tied to the 
comfortable arm-chair of a modern Alexander. 

The Commander-in-Chief's place is to-day, as for- 



SELF-RELIANCE, METHOD, COMMAND 131 

merly, where the issue is decided, and where he can 
himself survey the decisive field of battle/ The possi- 
biHty of regaining his central position, in case of need, 
within a short space of time by modern means of com- 
munication, will facilitate his resolve of going him- 
self to the battlefield. But it is the duty of the intelli- 
gence service to bring to him there the necessary news 
and to transmit thence his orders. Telephone, tele- 
graph, motor-cars, motor-cycles, and flying machines 
are available for that object. To simplify as much 
as possible the apparatus needed for this, and to relieve 
the Commander-in-Chief in every possible way, to 
limit the receipt and transmission of reports and or- 
ders as far as possible — that is the duty of the staff. 
But the Commander-in-Chief himself must try to keep 
his mind and memory free from the details of events 
with which only the commanders of troops are di- 
rectly concerned ; he must only keep in view the great 
and decisive factors, and leave the rest to his subordi- 
nate commanders, but he must rapidly and vigorously 
intervene the moment the issue hangs in the scale. To 
act in this way is the most difficult, but the most need- 
ful task of the spiritual systematics of generalship. 
The magnitude of the task grows with the magnitude 
of the masses engaged. On the one hand grows with 
it the number of reports coming in, which are only 
too apt to confuse the great features of the whole 
picture, and, on the other, the measures once adopted 
can only be cancelled with difficulty and under penalty 
when large bodies of the army are involved which 
are sometimes far away. The weight of responsibility 
and the difficulty of rightly gauging effects and con- 
sequences have, before all, become greater. Only a 
great and open mind is equal to this task. 



CHAPTER VII 
ATTACK AND DEFENCE 



CHAPTER VII 

ATTACK AND DEFENCE 

Reflections so far have shown that the modern 
arms, through their increased effect in all directions, 
exercise a far-reaching influence on tactics. The mod- 
ern armies of masses bring to the battlefield elements 
which have never before been dealt with by the science 
of war. Technics have furnished the art of war with 
means opening not only new avenues to transport and 
communication service, but taking in the air as a field 
of action as well. 

Under these altered conditions, acting and reacting 
upon each other in so many ways, the investigating 
mind, trying to trace the effects due to these new 
phenomena, is in the end faced by the question, 
whether the fundamental conditions of all warfare 
where all military action comes into play — namely, 
whether the relation of attack and defence — has not 
altered too, on account of the many means hitherto 
unknown and now used in modern warfare. 

This relation determines the nature of war in so 
many ways as to make it altogether impossible to 
deal with the art of war without being perfectly clear 
on the reciprocal effect of attack and defence. We 
must, therefore, not mind the trouble of closely ex- 
amining their mutual action and reaction. 

Clause witz considers the defensive the stronger 

135 



136 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

form of conducting war.* I do not share this opinion. 
I rather think we must compare attack and defence 
in a twofold manner: firstly, as a means of fighting; 
and, secondly, as a mode of action in conducting war. 
As a means of fighting, the defence may be stronger, 
yet an offensive mode of action in conducting a war 
may prove still stronger. The conditions decisive for 
both are absolutely different, and cannot directly be 
compared with each other at all. 

If we first of all compare defence and attack as a 
means of fighting, I certainly seem to have no doubt 
of the defence being substantially superior, and having 
even gained in strength by the development of modern 
armaments. 

Glancing first at infantry action alone, we shall find 
that the greater efficiency of the rifle benefits the de- 
fence above all, and increases the advantages arising 
from the nature of things. 

The defender to begin with has, at least in the 
majority of cases, the choice of the position in which 
he intends to fight. He will select it so as to have 
a clear field of fire, sweep all the ground in front, and 
remain himself under cover of the ground at the 
same time. This allows him to use his weapons thor- 
oughly with the least exposure to himself. The de- 
fender always presents a small target because he fires 
lying down, and, if possible, from behind cover, while 
the assailant must traverse the whole field of attack as 
a target. However much the latter may strive to keep 
low, he must show himself always more than the de- 
fender. The defender can, moreover, shoot more in 
the course of an action than the assailant, who must 
spend part of the time in advancing; his fire will gen- 
erally be more effective than that of his opponent, as 
* Clausewitz, "On War," book vi., chap, i., etc. 



ATTACK AND DEFENCE 137 

he is able to take deliberate aim, with his rifle as a 
rule supported, and he is often in a position to note 
the ranges before the action begins; while the assail- 
ant is obliged to deliver his fire after most violent and 
fatiguing movements occasioned by the advance. The 
defender, besides, can dispose as it were of an unlim- 
ited number of cartridges. He can store them before- 
hand inside the cover behind which he himself is 
lying, and replenish them as a rule without much dif- 
ficulty during the action. This advantage accrues to 
him from the choice of the position. The assailant, 
on the other hand, has generally only the ammunition 
which he carries on his person, the rounds of the killed 
and wounded being but a scanty resource. The troops 
can, of course, provide themselves with ample ammu- 
nition before the battle begins, but the carrying ca- 
pacity of the individual man is limited, and ammuni- 
tion can only be replenished during the attack by re- 
serves bringing it into the firing line. This, too, is of 
no great avail, the supports coming into action them- 
selves needing their own ammunition and being able 
to carry but a small surplus for distribution. They 
will suffer considerable loss before they reach the 
foremost fighting line. This shows a further advan- 
tage for the defence. The defender can, as a rule, 
place his supports so as to be covered at least against 
direct fire, and only to be exposed to serious losses at 
the moment they come into real action. The assailant, 
on the other hand, must bring up his reinforcements 
through the zone of fire his foremost line has already 
traversed, if he wishes to make use of his masses, and 
he must, therefore, expose them to losses before he 
gets the benefit of their intervention. 

In all these items the defender derives very much 



138 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

greater advantages from the improvements of the rifle 
than the attacker. 

The greater the range of the arms, the sooner must 
the actual deployment for attack begin; the greater 
the space the assailant has to traverse as a target, the 
greater will be his physical exertions, and the less fa- 
vourable for the assailant will become the proportion 
of the number of rounds both opposing parties can 
exchange. It is, besides, all the more difficult for the 
assailant to replenish his ammunition the deeper the 
field of attack which he has to cross; and the ammuni- 
tion spent is, moreover, then much greater, in addi- 
tion to the greater rapidity of fire. It is even doubtful 
whether it will be always possible, under the present 
conditions, to take the ammunition from the dead and 
wounded during the hottest fire-fight. The advantage, 
also, of the fire of the modern rifle being more graz- 
ing than that of the old arm — giving, therefore, aimed 
fire a greater chance of hitting — is more especially 
to the benefit of the defender, not only because he 
can aim with greater calmness than the attacker, who 
is in constant motion, but because he is, as already 
mentioned, also very often able to mark the ranges 
in his front and then fire with the correct sight, where- 
as the attacker must always estimate the ranges afresh 
while he is advancing. The greater the distances at 
which the action begins, the more will this advantage 
assert itself, because the errors in estimating the range 
grow with the distance, and affect the firing at distant 
ranges more unfavourably than at the nearer ranges. 
The assailant can certainly ascertain, with the ordi- 
nary range-finders, the distances at the beginning of 
an action, but during the advance itself they are use- 
less. The units of the assailant which are to rein- 
force the foremost fighting line will also, in the face 



ATTACK AND DEFENCE 139 

of the present rifle, suffer more than formerly when 
moving into the fighting Hne, because the dangerous 
zone behind the firing line is greater than with fire 
from weapons having a shorter range and steeper tra- 
jectory. The defender will scarcely feel this disad- 
vantage, because his supporting bodies, as I said be- 
fore, are, as a rule, behind some kind of cover at 
least. 

The defender has, lastly, the advantage of being 
able to make a far more extensive use of artificial 
cover than the assailant, and this advantage weighs 
all the more heavily the more efficient the arms, and 
the more, therefore, the chances of greater losses. 

The side which voluntarily decides to act on the de- 
fensive, and it is not suddenly thrown on it, has the 
chance of more or less strongly entrenching itself in 
the position occupied, increasing thereby the advan- 
tages afforded by the country, and neutralizing any of 
its disadvantages. The attacking infantry can, on 
the other hand, create but quite hasty cover during its 
advance, this kind of cover on the ground as found 
giving naturally very little protection, and being of 
advantage under particular circumstances only. 

The fact that the Japanese often entrenched in the 
attack has led to the propagation of views about the 
advantages of this procedure, which, in my opinion, 
go far beyond the mark. 

It is at once clear that, if cover is being prepared in 
the foremost line during an action, and within effec- 
tive fire of the enemy, the intensity of the fire of the 
attacker must suffer. The losses of the latter while 
digging will accordingly become greater, whereas those 
of the defender will be less. If, on the other hand, 
the fire of the defence is so weak as to allow the fore- 
most fighting line to entrench without serious loss, it 



I40 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

is plain that it is possible to get forward without en- 
trenching. 

If in the last wars the attacking infantry has re- 
peatedly dug itself into the ground during an action, 
even in close proximity to the enemy, we cannot at 
all conclude from this that this procedure is expedient 
in itself and in all situations. It rather follows that 
either the fire of defence was ineffective and that, in 
spite of this the assailant had not resolution enough 
to push on vigorously, or that he thought it neces- 
sary to secure first the ground gained against reverses, 
and to create a firm base for continuing the attack, and 
to fall back on in case of failure. At any rate, digging 
into the ground by the foremost fighting line means 
interrupting the attack and paralyzing the will to 
attack. Only under the stress of dire necessity should 
this be permissible. The effort, however, of securing 
the ground gained and creating solid pivots in case of 
a reverse is justifiable. 

Taking these reflections into account, we come to 
the conclusion that the foremost line of the attack 
must only use the spade when, during the advance, a 
section of ground suitable for entrenching has been 
reached, and the strength is failing for any further 
advance, and it now becomes a question of securing, 
above all, the possession of the ground captured; 
therefore, during the transition from the attack to 
the defence, though a temporary defence only. But 
it will, on the other hand, always be of advantage for 
the supports — which, being in rear of the attacking 
line, cannot themselves fire and are beyond the enemy's 
most effective fire — to entrench so as to protect them- 
selves against losses and to create pivots on which 
the foremost line can, in case of a reverse, establish 
itself when retreating. But this kind of cover will 



ATTACK AND DEFENCE 141 

always be of a very hasty nature only. The con- 
struction of proper artificial cover by the assailant is 
generally possible only if he makes use of the night, 
and proceeds to entrench systematically, to gain 
ground. But an expedient of this sort, belonging 
really to fortress warfare, is always an exception, and 
should be used only if we cannot advance at all in any 
other way. This procedure is generally altogether 
out of the question during active operations, as being 
far too tedious. 

Taking it all in all, the benefit the attacker can 
derive from entrenching is very small; but the possi- 
bility of creating for himself artificial cover is a real 
and substantial advantage to the defender. 

In opposition to this view, experienced and promi- 
nent tacticians, it is true, attribute to trench-work in 
the attack a very much greater importance than I can 
concede. I even find the view supported that broad 
spaces, affording no protection whatever, could be 
traversed by attacking infantry only with the aid of 
the spade, and by advancing as in fortress warfare 
from trench to trench, and, if necessary, under cover 
of night. I think this view goes decidedly too far. 

In my opinion it is impossible to advance by day, 
as in fortress warfare, without the means we have 
available there. In fortress warfare nobody dreams 
of entrenching by day within effective hostile fire. 
We slowly work forward by sapping, or use the night 
to form a lodgment by surprise. There can, of course, 
be no question of sapping in active operations; but 
should we wish to wait for the night to traverse every 
extensive open space, active operations would be 
turned into a war of positions, and the defender would 
be given the chance of strengthening his position, and 
adopting the measures necessary for its defence in 



142 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

perfect quietness. Therefore, a procedure like this 
can be expedient only in ,exceptional cases, such as 
fortress warfare; other means must be found for get- 
ting over open ground in the attack. I shall return to 
this question as I proceed. Here I am first of all con- 
cerned with proving that the possibility of creating 
cover in the country affords the defender far greater 
advantages than the assailant; and this view can 
hardly be contested even if a much greater importance 
is attached to spade-work in the offensive than is at- 
tached by me. 

A further advantage accrues to the defensive by the 
use of machine-guns. Conditions favouring the effect 
of that arm will generally be found only in the de- 
fensive. The machine-guns can here be brought into 
positions whence they can continue to act and accurate- 
ly fire at known ranges, without interfering with the 
fire of, or endangering, their own infantry. Some- 
times they may fire from a commanding position even 
over their own infantry. Hostile infantry advancing 
will also often present a favourable target. 

I do not deny that machine-guns can also be used 
with advantage under favourable conditions in the 
attack; but they are essentially a weapon for defence, 
and can generally give a full account of their value in 
defence only. 

The relation of attack and defence being determined 
by the infantry firearm, this relation is somewhat al- 
tered by the artillery. By rendering, through its dis- 
tant fire, the strategical and tactical initiation of the 
attack more difBcult, the artillery no doubt benefits the 
defence ; but the modern development of that arm has, 
on the other hand, disclosed also some features advan- 
tageous for the attack. All in all, I think we are 
justified in assuming that the artillery of to-day serves. 



ATTACK AND DEFENCE 143 

first of all, the idea of attack, and facilitates the of- 
fensive. This fact is, perhaps, even the most impor- 
tant result of the modern development of artillery. 

The defender stands in a fixed position. His in- 
fantry must advance sufficiently forward in the coun- 
try to sweep as much as possible the entire foreground, 
and to be able to fire effectively upon the attacking in- 
fantry. His infantry can, therefore, under any cir- 
cumstances, be reached by the artillery of the attack, 
even if it is standing behind cover and firing indirectly. 
This gives an immense advantage to the artillery of 
the attack, for the conditions of the artillery of the 
defence are totally different. The latter faces movable 
infantry targets which it must fight. 

With the means of laying the guns to-day, it is no 
doubt possible to fire also indirectly on movable tar- 
gets, but the same effect as with direct fire from an 
open position cannot be obtained for any length of 
time. When using the latter kind of fire, any change 
in the position of the target can at once be accounted 
for by taking direct aim and following the target; 
with indirect fire it is, on the other hand, always nec- 
essary to alter the position of the contrivances for 
laying; it is true, this can be effected in a simple and 
exact manner. The fire of batteries or brigades can 
in that way be uniformly transferred. The artillery 
in covered positions has moreover the advantage of 
being able to deliver its aimed-fire quietly, not being 
under direct fire itself; but then it must be supposed 
that the target can be observed, and that the connec- 
tion—often by telephone— between the position of 
the guns and the observing commander who is direct- 
ing the fire, is working without a hitch. Any inter- 
ruption of this connection, as may easily happen in 
war, makes indirect fire altogether impossible. 



144 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

Efforts are therefore made by the defending artil- 
lery to establish the observing stations as much as 
possible securely behind the batteries or aside of them. 
In a ranged battle, however, this v^ill rarely be feasible. 
As a rule, the observing stations v^ill be rather in ad- 
vance of the artillery positions, at points in the coun- 
try affording a good view over the field of action. 
They will, therefore, be often immediately within the 
area commanded by the hottest fire of the enemy, 
which will easily cause derangements in the communi- 
cations, or loss among the observing personnel. 

To this must be added yet another disadvantage of 
the indirect fire of the defensive artillery; only in the 
rarest cases will it be possible for this fire to fight the 
attacking infantry to the very last stages of the attack. 
Just when that infantry has come up close to the po- 
sition and the situation begins to be critical, the indi- 
rect fire will, as a rule, fail. It will depend on the 
configurations of the ground how long it can be con- 
tinued. Gun batteries have in this respect less favour- 
able chances than the howitzer batteries. Owing to 
the greater flatness of the trajectories of the guns, the 
artillery position must sometimes be selected far in 
rear of the cover and of their own infantry position, 
so as to prevent the non-swept ground in front of the 
latter from extending too far. Owing to the steeper 
trajectory of the howitzer batteries, they can move up 
closer to the cover to obtain the same results, and 
therefore make use also of steeper slopes. But in 
both cases the support by artillery fire will be missed 
by the defender's infantry just at the most decisive 
moments, if the defensive artillery remains in its cov- 
ered position. If, therefore, a thoroughly effective 
artillery fire is to be obtained against the enemy's at- 
tacking infantry up to the very last stages of the at- 



ATTACK AND DEFENCE 145 

tack, the defender must advance his guns far enough 
to take the attacking infantry under direct fire; he is 
therefore obliged to make his artillery more or less 
visible. This has been proved necessary over and over 
again in the battles of the Russo-Japanese War. The 
batteries had repeatedly to leave their cover to have 
any effect at all. The artillery of the attack is thus in 
a position of directing an observed, and therefore ef- 
fective, fire on the batteries of the defence when un- 
limbering in the open, without having to show itself, 
while the defending batteries can only fight their invis- 
ible adversary with sweeping and searching fire. 

The attacking artillery, firing indirect, has besides 
this advantage over the defending artillery, that its 
observing stations are beyond the zone of infantry fire, 
and, if they are not discovered by the defender, are 
also beyond the zone of artillery fire, and therefore, 
as a rule, less exposed than those of the defender. 

The fact that the attacking artillery cannot be di- 
rectly fired upon by the defender, unless the ground is 
altogether unfavourable for the former, is of special 
importance, and means a material tactical advantage 
for the assailant, since his artillery is the most danger- 
ous enemy of the defending infantry. If the attack- 
ing infantry is not very superior, and is unable to make 
an enveloping attack, it will scarcely ever succeed in 
fighting down the defender's infantry. Its attacks 
over open ground will fail as a rule. The artillery 
must pave the way and render the attacking infantry's 
road to victory easier. It must keep down the fire 
of the defending infantry, and thus give its own in- 
fantry the chance of crossing, also, stretches of open 
ground. If the assailant has also heavy field how- 
itzers, their fire will very soon produce a crushing 
effect on the visible portions of the defensive artillery, 



146 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

make the infantry pivots of the defender untenable, 
and render it also extremely difficult for him to main- 
tain the shelter-trenches and any localities he may 
have occupied. The artillery of the attack, on the 
other hand, standing under cover, can only be fought 
by the defender, as I said before, with sweeping and 
searching fire — a fire therefore not very effective — nor 
will his heavy howitzers often be capable of doing ma- 
terial damage to the assailant. 

In opposition to this view, many hold that the at- 
tacking artillery, if it wishes to support its own in- 
fantry effectively, must accompany it, during its ad- 
vance, with some portions at least, and this for moral 
reasons alone — because the infantry should feel cer- 
tain it is being supported by its artillery ; the latter, of 
course, would then lose the advantage of being able 
to fire from covered positions. 

This opinion is seemingly a little out of date. It 
is a matter of course for the artillery of the attack 
to advance to within the most effective ranges of the 
enemy, and if it does not find any covered positions 
there, it must sometimes unlimber in the open. But 
in no case is it necessary for the artillery to approach 
closer. On the contrary, it will always be more ad- 
vantageous for the batteries, after having found the 
range, to continue their effective fire without a break, 
than to cease fire with the object of approaching the 
enemy closer. It is just in the decisive phase of the 
attack that the artillery must not for a single moment 
stop or slacken its fire. It is, I believe, wrong to 
think that a moral impression is made upon the in- 
fantry by the direct accompaniment of artillery. The 
foremost fighting line, which is concerned here most, 
cannot notice at all whether the artillery is coming 
forward during the combat, as the artillery is any- 



ATTACK AND DEFENCE 147 

how obliged to remain always far in the rear of it. 
The best moral support for the attacking infantry is 
when it sees shrapnel and common shells bursting 
without a break over and within the enemy's line, en- 
veloping it in smoke. But a disagreeable and dis- 
couraging effect is sure to be produced, if, just at 
the critical moment, the artillery fire ceases or grows 
weaker, on account of the batteries changing positions, 
for the artillery is there to shoot and not to drive dur- 
ing the attack. At the beginning of the action the 
artillery must no doubt move up close to the enemy; 
during the action it will generally do well to remain 
in position. That special circumstances may lead to 
this principle being departed from, and to batteries 
pushing even right into the infantry fire, is of course 
possible; but it will generally be advisable, for the 
sake of effect, not to accompany the attacking infantry 
immediately, but to leave to the artillery the advantage 
of firing uninterruptedly from the covered positions. 
The artillery of the attack should, from the outset, 
recognize that its task is to combat the enemy's in- 
fantry, and only fire on hostile artillery when either 
the effect of the latter becomes particularly dangerous 
to the attacking artillery, or to portions of the attack- 
ing infantry, or when the defending artillery shows 
itself in open positions. The artillery of the defence, 
on the other hand, will, as a matter of principle, like- 
wise do well not to enter into a combat with the invis- 
ible artillery of the attack, as promising so little suc- 
cess. Of course, its main interest is to fight down the 
hostile batteries, but it has little chance to do so suc- 
cessfully. It will therefore generally be content with 
commanding, first of all, the roads by which the enemy 
is approaching, and then fighting as long as possible 
the attacking infantry from covered positions. It will 



148 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

deal with hostile artillery only if there is some chance 
of doing so successfully, or if there is an absolute 
need for it. If the artillery of the defence is obliged 
to show itself in the course of the action, the shields 
will give it some protection against hostile artillery; 
but if it is opposed to heavy howitzers, it must try to 
escape their effect by frequent change of position. 
This will be no easy task. 

Matters would be different, I think, if from balloons 
we succeeded in reconnoitring the position of the bat- 
teries behind cover, and in observing and correcting 
the fire directed against them. The South African 
War has proved that this is possible from a balloon ; 
but that it should be feasible to observe continually 
the fire of all the batteries in action on a modern 
battlefield in this manner, and to keep the observations 
so distinct from each other that the necessary cor- 
rections can be effected in accordance with the obser- 
vations made by the balloons, is highly improbable on 
account of the mass of bursting shells, and on account 
of the danger the balloons are exposed to from the 
enemy's balloons and also from his artillery fire. A 
spasmodic and disconnected observation from bal- 
loons, on the other hand, cannot be looked upon as a 
decisive factor at all. From all this I believe that we 
cannot attribute any special importance to the artillery 
duel in a modern battle, and that therefore the fact 
cannot be denied that the artillery of to-day serves 
first of all the idea of attack, while the defender will 
only derive full advantage of his batteries if he knows 
how to assume the offensive. 

If in attack we are superior in artillery, the infantry 
superiority need not be so great as otherwise, and in- 
versely. But it will never be possible to determine 
theoretically what the best proportion of the arms to 



ATTACK AND DEFENCE 149 

each other should be. We can never be too strong in 
attack. This holds good for infantry as well as for 
artillery. 

The advantages of the defence culminate in the 
possibility of making full use of the ground, and in 
the more effective delivery of infantry fire over a 
field carefully selected, and from behind cover. The 
advantages of the attack, on the other hand, originate 
essentially from the ''proud privilege of the initiative,'* 
from its operative mobility, and from the moral fac- 
tors brought into play by it. It is but rarely that 
battles are fought purely frontally; it is but rarely 
that the assailant will allow the defender to make use 
of all the advantages afforded him by the defensive 
form of combat; and it is but rarely that the moral 
forces will balance each other. We therefore must 
compare attack and defence not only as a form of 
fighting, but we must also consider both as a mode of 
conducting war in their reciprocal effect, before we 
can form a final judgment on their true value in war. 

The assailant, as a rule, has a free choice in the 
selection of the direction of his attack. The defender, 
generally not knowing this direction, must prepare to 
meet, if not all, at least the most likely enterprises 
of the enemy. He cannot distribute his forces in the 
best way to suit a definite case. He is always rather 
in a certain sense obliged to occupy a position of 
readiness; and not before the direction of attack is 
discerned, and he has ascertained how best to meet it, 
can he put his troops in motion accordingly. The 
assailant has, therefore, a double advantage. Firstly, 
he can prepare his enterprise with a distinct end in 
view, and employ his whole force in compliance with 
a uniform plan; and, secondly, he can, as regards 
time, space, and tactics, make use of the time the 



I50 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

defender needs for reconnoitring, making up his mind, 
and initiating his counter-measures. He thus gains 
a start not easily retrieved. But with the choice of 
the direction of attack, the further advantage is con- 
nected of being able to concentrate and use effectively 
a great numerical superiority in the decisive direction 
before the enemy can arrange his defence in sufficient 
strength. We can further conduct the attack so as to 
prevent the special advantages of the defence from 
asserting themselves. By enveloping a flank of the 
enemy, by threatening his line of retreat, or by attack- 
ing him in flank (though we thereby give up temporar- 
ily our own lines of communication), we force him 
to fight outside the country he had selected for his 
battlefield, and sometimes to execute a change of front 
under the pressure of a decisive attack. Sudden at- 
tack and surprise, choice of the direction of attack, 
with all the advantages accruing from it, gaining space 
and time, threatening the hostile lines of communica- 
tion — these have ever been the advantages of the offen- 
sive mode of action. 

In contrast with this, the defender has, apart from 
the effects of arms, certainly in general all the advan- 
tages of ground in his favour. For meeting an attack 
once recognized as such, he has, moreover, to traverse, 
inside a tactical or strategical defensive position, 
shorter distances than the assailant who intends to 
envelop or take him in flank; yet both advantages 
are only conditional; their worth is extremely fluctu- 
ating. The advantage of ground can only fully assert 
itself if the assailant is obliged to come in the direc- 
tion locally most favourable for the defence, and at- 
tacks the front chosen by the defender; the advantage 
of the shorter roads only if the direction of the en- 
emy's attack has been discerned in time. We cannot, 



ATTACK AND DEFENCE 151 

therefore, count these two advantages as safe factors, 
and, indeed, so Httle can we do so, as the chief advan- 
tage of the attack is based on the very fact that the 
defender, as proved by experience, when opposed by 
an energetic and clear-sighted assailant, is too late, 
as a rule, with his counter-measures, in spite of the 
shorter roads, and unable to make always full use of 
the advantages of the ground. 

Now, the advantages accruing to the attack from all 
these conditions are increased and enhanced by the 
enormous moral superiority due to the attack. Clause- 
witz is not inclined to concede this to the attack from 
the very beginning. But this probably is for the most 
part due to his dealing with a defence throughout con- 
ducted offensively. But if we merely consider the 
offensive and defensive as a mode of action, which I 
think is the only proper way to do, we surely arrive 
at a different result. 

There is in the attack itself a force that carries 
away everything, and puts in motion from the outset 
every mental faculty and moral power, and, by direct- 
ing them all to one single object, incites them to the 
highest exertions. The defender, on the contrary, 
remains at first engaged in the calmer occupation 
of watching and waiting, in the enervating uncertainty 
of what the enemy is going to do, and whether it will 
be recognized in time. But when he is ultimately 
obliged to act, he does so generally under the pressure 
of the full knowledge of facing superior power, reso- 
lution, and energy, and an enemy who has already 
gained a start over him in space and time, the impor- 
tance of which it is difficult to estimate. The pure 
defence is of a passive nature; it will often be pro- 
ductive of the greatest endurance, of the most heroic 
devotion, but it is wanting in the positive object which 



152 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

turns resolution into action, and raises the will to its 
highest pitch. It is only when engaged in positive 
action with a definite object that the highest per- 
formances are developed, and so firmly is this fact es- 
tablished that the defence itself is obliged to assume 
the offensive if it wishes to assert itself permanently 
and gain positive results. 

There is one quality above all in man which is of 
the utmost importance in all warfare, and really bene- 
fits the attack exclusively — boldness. 

Fortune smiles upon bold commanders before all 
others. They are the men who have filled the pages 
of the world's history with their proud achievements, 
and gave the laws to their time. They seem to enthral 
fortune by a powerful charm, and only succumb where 
with insolent conceit they try to trespass the limits of 
the possible. That this is so lies in the nature of 
things. 

Of all psychical qualities boldness harmonizes most 
with the nature of war — that is, striving to attain the 
utmost. Its superiority is due to the fact that bold- 
ness is one of the qualities rarest found in men, that 
an extraordinary strength of will and character is 
needed to keep it active under the pressure of respon- 
sibility and danger unavoidable in war, especially for 
the commander. The effects of superior boldness 
come, therefore, always as a surprise. They find the 
adversary unprepared, and thereby not only establish 
a moral superiority, which soon will exercise a par- 
alysing influence on every portion of the hostile army, 
but which will, moreover, turn into a gain of time 
and space that is of inestimable value in war; for in 
every single case the time necessary for the counter- 
measures of the party surprised and the demoraliza- 
tion it suffers benefit the bold assailant, which he can 



ATTACK AND DEFENCE 153 

take advantage of both in space and in tactics. It 
scarcely needs pointing out that a bold conduct of war 
cannot be always absolutely sure of success. But 
failure is then not due to the nature of boldness, but 
to other factors. It may be through a totally wrong 
appreciation of the whole situation, which led to en- 
terprises impossible in themselves, or through acci- 
dental and other effects which equalized or excelled 
the superiority established by boldness. 

If now, by reason of these reflections of a general 
nature, we fix our glance in particular upon the con- 
ditions of modern war, it is seen that there are ele- 
ments in them showing that the superiority of offen- 
sive warfare under modern conditions is greater than 
formerly. 

Above all, it is the size of the mid-European armies 
of to-day which gives a decided advantage to him who 
is conducting war offensively, an advantage which as- 
serts itself in tactics as well as in strategy. 

The greater the masses concerned, and the broader 
the front on which they must therefore deploy for 
bringing their weapons into effect, the longer time 
will, naturally, all the intended concentrations and 
changes of front take, because the distances to be 
covered grow with the size and spatial extension of 
the troops; the more difficult it is, accordingly, to 
bring all the troops at the same time into action. This 
difficulty is enhanced by the fact that with the growing 
masses the march technics and supply arrangements 
become more intricate, and on their part limit the free- 
dom of movement. 

All these circumstances benefit the offensive mode 
of action, because the advantages of space and time 
originating from the initiative grow in the same ratio 
as the difficulties of moving masses. If the assailant 



154 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

has once succeeded in concentrating a superior mass 
against a portion of the enemy's defensive position, 
the counter-measures of the defender will take all the 
longer time, the greater the mass which he must move, 
the broader the front on which it has been distrib- 
uted, and the more the assailant has succeeded in tak- 
ing him by surprise. 

Even the simple operation of shifting reserves be- 
hind the defensive front becomes more difficult the 
more extended the front; the danger of their being 
too late grows with the distances. The difficulty of 
carrying out unforeseen movements of masses will be 
incalculable, when it is not only a question of shifting 
reserves, but of a more or less decided change of front, 
as might be enforced by the assailant through an en- 
veloping or a flank attack. The Battle of Mukden is 
somewhat of a guide for judging about shifting troops 
in this way. Here a new front had to be opposed to 
the wide enveloping attack of Nogi's army, which ne- 
cessitated a partial deployment towards the flank. 
Comparatively few troops only were, however, in- 
volved in this movement. But should it once become 
a question of changing front with a modern army in 
the same way as the Austrians had to do at Leuthen, a 
movement like this would last for days, and the assail- 
ant would have the chance of beating the hostile troops 
arriving in succession one after the other with superior 
numbers. ". . . An army of 100,000 taken in flank 
can be beaten by 30,000 men," says Frederic the Great. 

And so indeed with the growing masses the chances 
of an offensive mode of conducting war grow at an in- 
creased ratio. 

But a further advantage accruing to the assailant 
from the present conditions consists in his being able, 
in a deliberate attack at least, to employ his best troops 



ATTACK AND DEFENCE 155 

in the decisive direction, while the defender, not 
knowing the main direction of attack, must oppose 
him with the forces immediately available at the front 
attacked. Owing to the great difference in value of 
the troops of a modern army, this advantage may 
sometimes be of decisive importance. If we bear in 
mind what good and reliable troops have achieved at 
all times against less disciplined troops, it is easily 
conceived how important a proper choice of troops is 
when a decisive action is involved. 

I think I have now considered the relation of attack 
and defence from every point of view, and do not see 
what other point could be adduced one way or the 
other. I can therefore summarize the result of these 
reflections to this end : that the defence as a form of 
Ughting is stronger than the attack, but that in the con- 
duct of war as a whole the offensive mode of action 
is by far superior to the defensive mode, especially 
under modern conditions. "It is always better to act 
offensively, even if we are inferior in numbers. The 
enemy is often bewildered by boldness, and allows 
advantages to be snatched from him,'' writes Frederic 
the Great to Louis XV., and it is surely somewhat con- 
clusive if we are one with him in military questions. 

The dictum on the superiority of the offensive is of 
fundamental importance. It rules the whole domain 
of the art of war; it must determine all action in war 
and for war, to-day more than ever. But this princi- 
ple, if we wish to count upon military successes, must 
go hand in hand with the knowledge that the attack, 
tactically, is infinitely more difficult under modern 
conditions than at any time before; that the assailant, 
where he intends to enforce the decision, needs a very 
considerable superiority, and that it is the duty of 
strategy to insure him this superiority. 



CHAPTER VIII 
THE OBJECT AND THE CONDUCT OF WAR 



CHAPTER VIII 

THE OBJECT AND THE CONDUCT OF WAR 

The probability of the Germans having to fight by 
sea and by land against greatly superior numbers is 
obviously near at hand. Their political development 
requires this combat as a biological necessity. It is, 
then, positively breaking the backbone of self-reliance, 
resolution, and will to conquer of the nation if a 
theory of war is preached which presents numerical 
superiority and the material means of warfare — 
masses, arms, and war-machines — as the decisive fac- 
tors, and more or less switches off the spiritual and 
moral elements of victory. To spread such a doc- 
trine is all the more noxious and pernicious, because 
it is actually a wrong doctrine, looks for the cardinal 
points of preparation for war at the wrong place, and 
is calculated to force policy into paths of renunciation 
by grossly overrating the importance of numerical 
superiority, and thereby the danger of a war with a 
numerically stronger enemy. 

Just on account of the situation in which Germany 
finds herself is it of the utmost importance that correct 
views should be spread not only in the army, but 
also among the people themselves, and that the con- 
viction should be kept alive that to-day as well as at 
King Frederic's time 100,000 men can be beaten by 
30,000 if resolutely and boldly led, and animated by 
the true spirit of a soldier. 

159 



i6o HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

For it is the spirit which decides in war to-day as 
well as in former times; it is the spirit of command 
and the spirit of the troops. Resolution and boldness 
have the same ascendancy as of yore; the proud privi- 
lege of initiative is valid as of yore; victory, as of 
yore, is not tied to a definite system, but may be gained 
in a variety of forms even against substantial numeri- 
cal superiorities. 

Having dealt in detail with the means available for 
the conduct of war, there is no question, therefore, 
when discussing the conduct of war itself, of estab- 
lishing special systems and rules for the employment 
of troops; but, rather, of shedding full light on the 
factors on which victory depends, so that the com- 
mander, while correctly appreciating all effects and 
reciprocal relations, can act with perfect freedom of 
mind. 

Politics have a determining influence on the con- 
duct of war, which is justified within certain limits. 
These limits must be discerned. The broad outlines 
of action and the nature of generalship have to be 
considered. The utilization of time and space is of 
far-reaching importance ; momentous reciprocal effects 
exist between them which must be elucidated. The 
tactical and strategic importance of reserves and the 
importance of the operative element in war must be 
minutely weighed. The distribution, grouping, and 
movement of the forces for action may be of decisive 
importance. The principles, therefore, have to be dis- 
cussed which must be decisive for command in war. 
Success or failure, lastly, create situations necessitat- 
ing action under ever-varying circumstances. But all 
these conditions on which the conduct of war depend 
are subject to the superior influence of spiritual and 
moral forces, and gain their true importance only by 



THE OBJECT AND CONDUCT OF WAR i6i 

the spiritual and moral atmosphere from which they 
spring. The ultimate and supreme factors of success 
must be looked for in the psychical qualities of indi- 
vidual actors and of the peoples ; and beyond the con- 
sequences of victory and defeat, moral strength and 
moral greatness retain an importance which deter- 
mines historical development in the last and supreme 
instance. 

War develops directly from the political conflicts of 
States; this may be caused by questions of power, 
national antagonism, colonial efforts, or commercial 
competition. The cause of the war is always of po- 
litical nature, and often exercises a decisive influence 
on the mode of conducting the war. It is, therefore, 
impossible to appreciate correctly the nature of war 
in all its relations and effects if we view it outside the 
political reasons which brought it about — as a thing 
by itself, as it were. War between civilized States is 
nothing else but a means of policy for attaining its 
intentions, or, as Clausewitz says, "a continuation of 
policy by other means," and it is this fact which in 
reality limits above all its nature to achieve the utmost, 
and contributes a great deal to the variety of its char- 
acter. 

Owing to the heavy material and personal sacrifices 
involved in a modern war, with its levy of the whole 
people, wars between civilized States for frivolous po- 
litical purposes will probably in future be avoided. 
The mere threat of going to war is alone suflicient to 
exercise an exceedingly injurious influence upon com- 
mercial and financial affairs, thus entailing heavy loss 
of money. Yet even to-day it need not always be a 
question of vital importance to make war possible. 
Antagonistic political efforts comprising important in- 
terests may often suffice to give cause for an appeal 



1 62 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

to arms. For France, the preservation of her colonial 
empire is not a vital question, as she has not popula- 
tion enough to colonize ; arid yet she would, no doubt, 
defend her colonies by force of arms. With the nu- 
merous conflicting relations existing between the vari- 
ous States, it might also happen that a seemingly in- 
different political purpose may give cause for a mili- 
tary collision if that purpose was merely the pretext 
or the fortuitous form of expression, below which are 
hidden deep-seated antagonistic interests. That is the 
reason why it is not always the ostensible political 
purpose which settles the character of the war, but 
the conflict of great national interests brought to the 
full knowledge of the people by the war. When Na- 
poleon III began the war in 1870, they were dynastic 
interests which he pursued. But the war at once grew 
beyond this narrow limit, and became a powerful 
struggle of two nations for supremacy in Europe. 

The purposes pursued by policy do not always co- 
incide with real interests of the State. They are 
settled by men who are subject to the fate of all man- 
kind — of judging with a narrow mind and limited 
views, whose mode of thinking is often devoid of 
greatness, and whose character frequently lacks firm- 
ness — men who are often influenced by exclusive in- 
terests, deficient public spirit, and personal ambition. 
Nations may also be deceived in their views, may 
strive after wrong objects, and misunderstand their 
true missions. And so it may happen that even in our 
days wars may arise which are not at all caused by 
important interests of the State. But they will then 
always bear a character different from those which do 
not spring from arbitrariness, but from political ne- 
cessity. 

This is the first and often decisive influence of pol- 



THE OBJECT AND CONDUCT OF WAR 163 

icy on the conduct of war, because the general charac- 
ter of the war is determined by the political conditions 
from which the conflict arose. The magnitude and the 
nature of the interests at stake exercise an automatic 
influence on the intensity of the fight and the forces 
employed. 

In the case of Russia and Japan, neither of the two 
States had the intention of subjugating the other. But 
the Japanese fought for their position in the world, 
for their recognition as a civilized State, for their su- 
premacy in Eastern Asia. Their whole political, na- 
tional, and public future depended on the success of 
their arms. Hence the enthusiastic participation of 
the whole nation in the heroic struggle ; hence the self- 
sacrificing spirit of staking the full strength of the 
nation. 

Russia, on the other hand, fought for a limited 
political object — the supremacy in Eastern Asia, and 
free access to the ocean. To the bulk of her people 
these ideas were altogether foreign. Not for a single 
moment did the war become a national war; not for 
a single moment was it conducted with the united 
forces of Russia — nay, it unchained in Russia herself, 
and even in the army, forces hostile to the State, 
which meant to use the war for purposes of home pol- 
itics, and ultimately brought about a revolution. The 
tension in the conduct of war was accordingly slight. 
Nowhere was the feeling apparent that it was abso- 
lutely necessary to conquer in this struggle. This 
could be most distinctly seen in all military action, and 
by the character of the whole war. On the Russian 
side it never, in its totality, became heroic. The spirit 
of the army was not nourished by the spirit of the na- 
tion for whose interest the army was fighting. 

A further influence of policy on the conduct of war 



i64 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

is established by the fact that policy must choose the 
moment for the State to take up arms. Policy must 
then, of course, not only consider the purely political 
conditions, but must also have regard to the military — 
i.e., the state of its own as well as of the hostile army, 
and the military forces of the likely allies of both 
sides. In this sense the military affairs exercise also 
a legitimate influence on policy. For all that, it is 
the statesman, and not the soldier, who decides on 
peace or war, thus settling at the same time the general 
situation in which the war must be fought out. The 
commander who actually conducts the war must ac- 
cept the situation as it is ; he has no choice left whether 
a Frederic the Great places him before a great task 
at the most opportune hour, or whether a Frederic 
William III forces him to fight under the most fatal 
circumstances. The happy choice of the moment for 
beginning the war may be decisive for the whole 
course of it. 

But with all this the influence of policy on the 
conduct of war is not yet exhausted. 

If war is resolved upon, the military object takes 
the place of the political purpose; this object is de- 
termined by the amount and the kind of military 
success considered necessary for the attainment of the 
political purpose — that is to say, therefore, for break- 
ing the will of the opponent sufficiently as no longer 
to resist our political intentions.- The ''military ob- 
ject" may be imagined and termed, as it were, the 
equivalent of the "political purpose." 

This' object cannot always be fixed from purely mili- 
tary points of view, since we must continually bear 
in mind the reaction of the military action on the 
political affairs. Political considerations may become 
decisive even for the choice of the direction of the 



THE OBJECT AND CONDUCT OF WAR 165 

offensive, as we shall explain in detail afterwards, and 
the political situation is often directly decisive for 
the amount of the military efforts and the determina- 
tion of the military object equivalent to them. 

In theory it is no doubt best from a purely military 
point of view to fix this military end as high as pos- 
sible — that is to say, therefore, to keep the perfect 
submission of the hostile State always in view. Only 
an opponent completely disarmed is under all circum- 
stances obliged to submit to our will. If, on the 
other hand, he is but weakened to a certain extent, 
we can never be sure of attaining this object. But 
this utmost cannot always be upheld in the world we 
really live in. 

In many cases it is altogether impossible to break 
the enemy's power of resistance completely. A per- 
fect subjugation of Russia, for instance, would be 
impossible for any European State simply owing to 
spatial conditions, and if England or Japan would 
become involved in a war with the United States of 
North America they could surely not think of abso- 
lutely disarming that opponent. On the other hand, 
the political purpose often does not even make it de- 
sirable actually to destroy the hostile power. When 
Frederic the Great attacked Austria in 1740, he never 
thought of completely overthrowing that State, be- 
cause in that case the French would have become mas- 
ters of Germany, which was not at all in the interest 
of Prussia. He only wished to injure Austria suffi- 
ciently to cede Silesia to him so as to prevent further 
calamities, otherwise he wished to uphold her as a 
great power in the interest of Germany. 

Lastly, there are political purposes totally out of 
reasonable proportion to the intention of completely 
crushing the enemy's military power ; or the relations 



1 66 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

of the neighbouring States to the State assailed may 
make it seem too dangerous to vanquish him entirely. 
The fear of challenging new and perhaps superior 
opponents will often cause us to fix the military object 
within certain bounds. 

Yet we must, on the other hand, bear in mind that 
military success also reacts on policy. Great decisive 
successes spread a salutary fear. The rapid and de- 
cisive victories gained by Prussia in Bohemia in 1866 
may be said above all to have caused Napoleon to 
abandon his intervention in favour of Austria, and in 
1870-71 it was probably the magnitude of the Ger- 
man victories that prevented our numerous enemies 
from drawing the sword in favour of France. 

From all these reflections we must logically con- 
clude that it is imperative to fix the military object 
always as high as the armaments and the general po- 
litical situation possibly admit. 

In the actual conduct of the war the foremost and 
most essential demand that must be made on the 
genius of command is, to estimate correctly the char- 
acter of the war and the nature of the enemy; to dis- 
cern where the centre of gravity of the hostile resist- 
ance will be found, and to adopt its own measures ac- 
cordingly. It is only if the commander judges and 
acts correctly concerning these things that he can do 
full justice to his task. 

This demand is evidently exceedingly difficult to 
fulfil, else command would not have so often fallen 
short of it. There are generally, and especially at 
the beginning of a war, only a few palpable facts by 
which we can form an opinion; as a rule, it is a 
question of imponderabilities that must be gauged. 
For this is wanted a kind of scenting spiritually what 
the senses often are totally unable to grasp. The 



THE OBJECT AND CONDUCT OF WAR 167 

one-sidedness and narrowness of human judgment, 
which is but rarely able to view things objectively, 
misguide us, too, in this. Only a great and open 
mind, at the same time refined by professional knowl- 
edge, will nearly always hit upon the right thing. 
Who, knowing the history of mankind, would like to 
deny that most men, called upon to form such a judg- 
ment, are incompetent to satisfy this ideal demand? 
We only see too often that judgment and action do 
not meet the situation nor do full justice to the true 
magnitude of the task. On the other hand, it cannot 
often be proved that vigorous action has shot beyond 
the mark, and caused any harm thereby. A surplus of 
military performance will scarcely ever be injurious." 
That commander will, therefore, always have the 
best chances who, in the military action itself, brushes 
completely aside all points of view that might exer- 
cise a paralysing effect, and who tries always and 
under any circumstances, with the utmost energy, to 
gain what is at all possible to gain under the condi- 
tions as given after correctly appreciating the enemy 
— of course, not in every part of the theatre of war, 
but in the conduct of the war as a whole. This point 
being already decisive when fixing the object of the 
war, it is twice as important for the military action 
itself which is to attain this object. He who acts in 
this spirit does not, at any rate, run the risk of achiev- 
ing less than the situation demands, and obtains, in 
any case, that moral superiority over a less energetic 
opponent which is seen by the actual results. He who, 
without heeding any subordinate motives, always 
strives for the utmost with a vigour that harmonizes 
with that utmost, has an advantage by itself over" 
every opponent who finds or believes himself to be 
restricted by all kinds of minor intentions, and by 



i68 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

theoretical, political, or even personal scruples. Only 
too often — and this is inhei:ent in human nature — have 
commanders looked for pretexts and fictitious reasons 
to spare them the resolve to do the utmost. This 
weakness gives an advantage to the more resolute op- 
ponent. 

With reference to this we need only consider Kuro- 
patkin's mode of action in the Russo-Japanese war. 
His plan was to gain gradually, by retreating, numeri- 
cal superiority over the enemy, at first thought to be 
stronger, and then to assume the offensive for the 
final issue. The very plan was faint-hearted, and was 
absolutely contrary to the endeavour of performing 
the maximum possible. In carrying it out, the will 
to conquer was entirely lost. Even after he had a 
very substantial numerical superiority at his disposal, 
of which he was perfectly aware, this commander was 
unable to make up his mind to risk all and strive for a 
really great success with his united forces. But his 
opponent resolutely took advantage of this weakness, 
and only thereby was able to command victory. 

How differently from the Russian commander does 
true genius act ! Genius always tries the most decisive 
issue, because it knows that the greater the victory, the 
surer all minor intentions are achieved and all scruples 
disarmed; because it feels that it is boldness which is 
most apt to perplex and paralyse the enemy, creating 
thereby not only favourable conditions for success, but 
in case of failure also affording a certain, and as a rule 
sufficient, security for retreat. 

When Moltke undertook to fight the Battle of St. 
Privat with front reversed,* he was well aware of 
acting with extreme boldness and of taking into the 

* I.e., with a front formed toward his original line of 
advance after having marched round Metz. 



THE OBJECT AND CONDUCT OF WAR 169 

bargain a great risk. If the attack failed, retreat was 
likely to become very difficult owing to the direction 
of the lines of communication with respect to the 
front, especially if the French pushed vigorously from 
Metz on both banks of the Moselle. But the Field- 
Marshal also knew that in case of success victory 
would be all the more momentous; he knew that the 
boldness of his mode of action alone gave him a tre- 
mendous moral (and thus the most effective) prepon- 
derance, and he was allowed to presume that the 
French, as he had learned to know them, could surely 
not be expected to show the utmost energy and bold- 
ness even should they succeed in victoriously main- 
taining their ground. And, indeed, his calculation 
proved correct, for the enemy's resolutions were most 
of all affected by the moral superiority of the Ger- 
mans. Even before the very beginning of the battle, 
Bazaine had thought of retreat, and the very half- 
heartedness and uncertainty of his resolution made 
him lose the battle, because this irresolution prevented 
him from engaging all his forces for the decisive is- 
sue, and infected all his subordinate commanders. On 
August 16, too, at Mars-la-Tour, he lost the battle 
chiefly from want of resolution. 

To strive always for the highest possible success 
with the utmost energy is the first principle of all war- 
fare, and that commander will never acquire highest 
fame who falls short of this demand. The fate, not 
only of battles, but of whole wars and States, often 
depends on the commander's energy, that looks upon 
every success but as an incitement to further deeds, 
and upon every failure as an inducement to wipe it 
out at once by other successes. 

The demand of striving always after the utmost 
possible success being thus one of the fundamental 



I70 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

ideas of the art of war, it is, nevertheless, impossible 
to determine theoretically what in each case must be 
fixed as the utmost of success. This must always be 
gauged in each case as it occurs, falls within the com- 
pass of each individual's reasoning, and thus incurs 
the penalty to which all human thought and deed is 
subject — the chance of erring. We seem to turn here 
in a vicious circle, since in the last instance personal 
opinion must, after all, again decide. It seems the 
same regarding the forms and the other rules for ac- 
tion, and it begins to look as if the phrase "to strive 
after the utmost with the utmost energy" sets up a 
demand indeed, but does not put us at all in the way 
of solving the problem. 

Yet that is not so. Definite rules for the conduct of 
war can certainly never be given. A theory of the 
conduct of war as an infallible guide for action is 
impossible. The doctrine must confine itself to con- 
sidering the implements of war and forms of opera- 
tion in their reciprocal effects, weighing the merits and 
demerits of the different procedures, and thus furnish- 
ing the commander with the material on which to 
form his judgment. But from these theoretical and 
critical reflections the guiding lines for action develop 
spontaneously. 

If we are requested always to fix our eye on the 
maximum success attainable, that means nothing else 
but that from all possible solutions of a military prob- 
lem we must, as a matter of principle, select that which 
promises the maximum success ; arbitrariness of judg- 
ment is thereby confined to narrow limits, and the 
will is necessarily directed upon the utmost. If we 
are, at the same time, requested to subordinate all our 
action to the law of developing the highest possible 
force and the strongest possible tension of energy, 



THE OBJECT AND CONDUCT OF WAR 171 

the conduct of war will receive its peculiar stamp 
from that. 

There is even more in the demand, apparently so 
simple, of always striving after the highest possible 
success. 

Attack alone achieves positive results ; mere defence 
always supplies but negative results. The maximum 
possible success is by itself, therefore, attainable only 
through the offensive, and the results of the offensive 
are increased by boldness. 

In this way, from the injunction to strive always 
after the greatest success, results the further funda- 
mental demand of acting always offensively, if the con- 
ditions in any way admit of this; where we are obliged 
to act on the defensive, to conduct it always zvith the 
reservation of acting offensively afterwards and never 
to he urged into a passive defence except under direst 
necessity. 

There may certainly be cases where a purely passive 
defence is imperative, and where the gain of time is 
the maximum possible success. Inferior strength com- 
bined with special advantages of ground, state and 
character of the forces, and also the political situation, 
may force us into a passive defence. But we must 
then be perfectly aware that we are submitting to 
the will of the enemy, and abandoning all chance of 
finishing the combat according to our own free will. 
That remains always a disadvantage. 

Every military situation must therefore he examined 
as a matter of principle, whether it cannot he solved 
offensively, and not till every avenue to an offensive 
mode of action seems hlocked must we resolve upon 
the defensive. If General von der Tann had been 
conscious of this guiding principle of all warfare, 
when the French advanced on Orleans, he would have 



172 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

stuck to his original and ingenious plan of evacuating 
the town and throwing himself from the north upon 
the flank of the hostile army then approaching, instead 
of opposing it on the defensive. He would then, in 
all probability, have gained a splendid victory at Coul- 
miers, instead of suffering a defeat. 

Offensive warfare must, of course, not be imagined 
to be an uninterrupted and continuous offensive pro- 
cedure of every single portion of the whole force 
under any circumstances. It will certainly be often 
imperative — especially when greatly superior in num- 
bers — to proceed offensively along the whole line 
where we are in touch with the enemy. But just as 
often will it be a question of combining an offensive 
with a defensive procedure, and what is demanded 
here is merely that the ultimate carrying through of a 
general offensive should be the ruling idea. 

All action in war is, however, governed by the an- 
tagonism of attack and defence and their reciprocal 
effect. Where the attack encounters the defence, 
their antagonism becomes manifest; but where the 
same party makes use partly of the offensive and 
partly of the defensive modes of action, their recipro- 
cal effects assert themselves. These latter, as has been 
pointed out already, are due to the fact that the de- 
fence in front is tactically stronger than the attack. 
We can therefore spare forces where, in combination 
with the ground, we act on the defensive, and use 
them elsewhere for strengthening the offensive. It is 
only a question of determining the proportion of the 
offensive and defensive groups to each other in a way 
to prevent us being beaten in the defensive before 
our own attack has brought about a victorious issue. 

It is consequently of the utmost importance to esti- 
mate properly the offensive and defensive power of the 



THE OBJECT AND CONDUCT OF WAR 173 

hostile and of our own troops, and to apportion the 
forces accordingly. 

This grouping must never be only based on numeri- 
cal conditions, nor be done in a purely mechanical way ; 
it must rather be done with due regard to the vital 
strength of the troops, their peculiar aptitude for the 
task to be solved, the nature of the different theatres 
of war, the likely existence of fortresses, and other 
circumstances facilitating or aggravating attack and 
defence. Every modern army is composed of troops 
differing in military value ; not to all can be given the 
same tasks. Even the performances of the same troops 
will often greatly differ under different circumstances. 
Imponderable factors frequently raise or lower their 
military value. Previous victories or defeats, confi- 
dence in the commander, and similar causes, exercise 
a far-reaching influence. Where configuration and 
cultivation of ground favour the defence, and where 
fortresses afford secure points, we can, as a rule, do 
with troops fewer in number and of lesser worth than 
where open ground, affording little cover, makes us 
expect severe losses, and hence requires greater con- 
tempt of death and determination. The relation of 
the arms to each other must also be considered. The 
troops apportioned for defence must be amply sup- 
plied with machine-guns; for attack the best infantry 
and the bulk of the heavy artillery of the field army 
should be combined. Where the conditions are fa- 
vourable for cavalry action, the mass of that arm will 
be employed. It is certainly highly important not to 
break up the customary tactical formations and place 
the troops under the command of leaders unknown to 
them, and in whom they cannot have confidence. But 
we must never be fettered by the organization as we 
find it in such a narrow way as not to venture on 



174 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

this account arranging for what is the most practical. 
Especially the auxiliary ^rms of different units we 
may often have occasion to unite for carrying out par- 
ticular duties. An important factor for distributing 
the forces is, moreover, time. This became already 
apparent when we discussed the inner line, but is 
equally important for every action in war where it is 
necessary to combine attack and defence. In that case 
it will, as a rule, not depend so much on the defending 
troops holding out altogether as long as possible, like, 
perhaps, the garrison of a fortress, but on offering 
resistance in general, and delaying the issue long 
enough for the attacking troops to be on their part vic- 
torious in the decisive direction. The defending troops 
may often, at least in strategic defence, also retire 
within certain limits without thereby jeopardizing the 
success of the whole operation — in short, they must 
in a given space fight to gain time. To this must be 
paid due regard also in the distribution of the forces. 
Attacking and defending troops must be able to act 
in harmony with each other, and work into each 
other's hands. Lastly, the choice of the superior com- 
manders, and especially of those who are to hold an 
independent command, is of most decisive importance. 
To Hannibal as well as to Fabius Cunctator must be 
apportioned the task that would suit each. 

To distribute harmoniously the forces in this sense 
is in every single case, in strategy as well as in tactics, 
the -first practical duty of the Commander-in-Chief. 
The way in which he carries out this duty forms the 
basis of the further course of events. 

He who employs too many troops on the defensive 
fronts will be short of forces for the decisive attack. 
He, on the other hand, who occupies the defensive line 
too weakly must be in constant fear of the enemy 



THE OBJECT AND CONDUCT OF WAR 175 

overpowering it before his own attack has succeeded 
and brought about the decisive issue. But the same 
danger accrues to him who in attack or defence has 
underestimated the enemy's fighting strength. His 
strategic account will then prove always faulty. 

All strategic and tactical questions can in the last 
instance be traced back to this reciprocal effect of 
attack and defence, this seemingly so simple relation. 
We can, therefore, easily judge how highly important 
a correct appreciation of this relation must be for the 
whole conduct of the war. The distribution of forces 
based on this appreciation often contains in itself the 
germs of victory or defeat. This holds good first of 
all and in a special measure for the strategic concen- 
tration. The mistakes made at this initial distribution 
of forces can scarcely ever be made good during the 
course of the war. This we are also taught by Moltke, 
who was the first to think out and direct a concentra- 
tion of considerable masses of troops with the aid of 
modern means of transport. But this lesson holds 
good for the initiation of any larger operation of mod- 
ern type ; with modern armies it also holds good when 
concentrating for battle. Its importance has grown 
with the growth of the armies of masses, since changes 
in the distribution of forces become all the more dif- 
ficult the larger the masses with which we have to deal. 

The pernicious consequences that might arise from 
our own and the enemy's forces being wrongly es- 
timated, and if on this the strength of the forces, the 
grouping of the troops, and the strategic measures 
are determined, are particularly well illustrated by the 
way in which the Russians conducted their recent 
wars. 

They enormously underrated Turkey's military ef- 
ficiency in 1877, and began the war with forces far 



176 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

too weak. In consequence a terrible crisis arose, which 
was safely got over merely because the Turks did not 
understand how to take advantage of the favourable 
situation. But in Manchuria Russian command sinned 
in the opposite direction. 

The first victories of the Japanese seem to have 
made a positively overwhelming impression upon the 
Russian commander. Since then he laboured under 
the notion of having to fight against a tremendous 
superiority, even against a tremendous numerical su- 
periority, and this notion paralysed his energy con- 
stantly afresh. Russian command has been repeatedly 
discussed already, it is true, but it will pay to study 
it also from this point of view. Very interesting is 
it, for instance, to compare the estimate made at 
Russian Headquarters of the Japanese strength with 
the actual forces employed by them, and to notice how 
Kuropatkin, by reason of this estimate, which some- 
times was double what the forces really were, thought 
himself everywhere too weak for attack, and believed 
the Japanese to be strong enough to turn him with 
powerful masses without materially weakening them- 
selves in front. It is highly instructive to see how, 
owing to this over-estimation of the enemy, not only 
the offensive spirit was completely paralysed, from 
sheer anxiety of all kinds of purely imaginary dangers, 
but also how the grouping of the forces seemed to 
meet, with apparently wise foresight, all possible stra- 
tegic contingencies, yet never the actual strategic situ- 
ation. This can be traced throughout the whole course 
of the war. 

This reflection brings us to another demand of gen- 
eral importance in the conduct of war, which ap- 
peals to the moral qualities of the commander. Clause- 
witz calls fear a lost equilibrium and Bismarck terms 



THE OBJECT AND CONDUCT OF WAR 177 

it a "bad adviser." Fear lured Kuropatkin into adopt- 
ing the most contradictory and pernicious measures, 
in the same way as it condemned to sterihty Schwarz- 
enberg's conduct in the War of Liberation. It acted 
Hke a nightmare upon the opponents of Frederic the 
Great and of the mighty Corsican, and puzzled their 
military judgment. In the face of such manifesta- 
tions we must demand from a commander that in for- 
tune and in misfortune he keeps his equanimity and 
does not allow the calm objectivity of his judgment to 
he obscured; that no failure and no misfortune makes 
him depart from the principles of an offensive and of 
a bold conduct of the war; and that no anxiety should 
get the better of his judgment and of his resolution. 

If it is difficult under ordinary conditions to adhere 
unerringly to the guiding idea of a plan of operations 
in spite of the thousand and one changes in the military 
situation, never to lose sight of it, and to turn it into 
deeds under the pressure of the most contradictory 
demands, and under the most difficult material cir- 
cumstances, without being misled by subordinate con- 
siderations — if this alone requires a clear mind, tre- 
mendous self-confidence, complete mastery of arma- 
ments as well as of troops, unceasing energy and cir- 
cumspection, ever full of resources, and knowing how 
to break down any opposition and remove all friction, 
so much more must these qualities assert themselves 
when misfortune threatens to unnerve the soul of the 
commander, and when the columns of the army, beaten 
and retreating, begin to lose their moral balance and 
power of resistance. And yet it is just in such situa- 
tions imperatively necessary that the commander, 
whose soul infuses life into the whole army, should 
not lose his equanimity, but keep alive his spirit of en- 
terprise and daring, and preserve the high spirit of 



178 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

his soul, which looks upon defeat only as a step to 
later victories. 

The same as in days past Bliicher, after the unfor- 
tunate actions and heavy losses which he suffered in 
his march to the Marne in February, 18 14, never 
thought for a moment of giving up the offensive, but 
at once collected his forces for renewed advance; the 
same as Gneisenau, after the unfortunate Battle of 
Ligny, when making arrangements for the retreat, did 
so already with a view of co-operating with Welling- 
ton's army, thus preparing the victory of Waterloo; 
the same as King Frederic after Colin and Kunersdorf 
only thought of making good the losses by all the 
greater victories; so the commander of the future 
must think, so must he strive to act. In this way 
alone can also, in the armies of masses of modern 
times, that mental and moral elasticity of mind be 
preserved which is indispensable for conquering in 
war. 

We must not conceal from ourselves that the mod- 
ern armies of masses, composed as they are, will be 
very much more susceptible of depressing influences 
than the smaller but more firmly-knit armies of the 
past. This weakness must be compensated for by 
greater elasticity of mind of the commander, and by 
his spirit of enterprise, else it must be feared that 
every failure of even single portions may lead to some 
demoralization and weakening of the whole army, thus 
disturbing at the same time the mechanism which 
moves the masses and keeps them active. 

This mechanism is, by itself alone, something 
powerful and intricate. A thousand wheels must 
organically work into each other to keep it going, 
and yet the independence of the members must be 
preserved in each place. That is only possible when 



THE OBJECT AND CONDUCT OF WAR 179 

the whole is animated by a confident spirit sure of vic- 
tory. The commander alone can rouse it and keep if 
awake. It is enormously difficult to be equal to this 
task, for as easily as it may happen that a modern 
army is demoralized and disorganized, so difficult is 
the art of controlling and animating it spiritually. 
Special qualities of character are needed to exercise 
that art. To a few mortals only, called to exercise 
authority, are given these qualities to any great ex- 
tent; nor are these qualities alone enough for solving 
the problems devolving upon a modern commander. 
The domineering greatness of his character must be 
supplemented by an inborn military talent, by superior 
mental faculties, and by a comprehensive profes- 
sional knowledge. This is absolutely necessary under 
modern conditions. 

Every branch of the military science must be mas- 
tered by the commander of to-day, and this knowledge 
be available at any moment; he must know the or- 
ganism of the army to the minutest detail; he must 
be absolutely clear on the reasons for, and the conse- 
quences of, his actions, on the factors decisive in 
war and in battle, and on the frictions he is likely 
to meet. Only then, if he is otherwise fitted for it, 
can he with a perfectly free mind exercise the difficult 
art of conducting war under modern conditions ; only 
then will he inspire all his subordinates within all parts 
of the army with that confidence which assures him 
the control of the masses under any circumstances, 
and that can raise all mental and moral qualities to 
their highest pitch. 

Of the modern commander and superior leader of 
troops must be demanded that he is a theorist of war 
— certainly in the sense of Clause witz — so that he can.. 
be a successful practical soldier. 



i8o HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

The mere routinist fails, and must fail, the moment 
he is approached by the great and difficult problems 
of modern warfare. He will always try to solve them 
with the inadequate means afforded by his limited ex- 
perience. Nor can the "Court-General," who is 
obliged to spend his life in futilities, and who has no 
time for serious military study, ever satisfy the de- 
mands of the future. Those should take this to heart 
who may be called upon to take command in the face 
of the enemy. In war the mental labour cannot be 
retrieved, which was neglected in peace. The times 
of the "Review-General" are past recovery, and in 
the lower grades, too, the mere dare-devil will suc- 
cumb to him who is aware of what he ventures on. 

"Put your aim always high, if you design a plan 
of campaign; make the project as comprehensive as 
possible, for we always fall short of our aim. Con- 
stantly muse upon your profession, upon your own 
enterprises, and upon eminent commanders. This 
meditation is the only means for acquiring that rapid- 
ity of deliberating which at once grasps everything, 
devises everything that is applicable to the circum- 
stances of the moment . . ." These are the words 
in which Frederic the Great clothed the doctrines 
once transmitted to him by Prince Eugen of Savoy. 
They have twice the value to-day, when all military 
action is so much more materially difficult. A leader 
who is in doubt of what he can do and what he will 
do, will soon fail in resolution and action. A perfect 
clearness of mind alone gives birth to resolution. A 
commander must thoroughly think out his task, to-day 
more than ever. 

He alone who has well thought out the art can prac- 
tise it. 



CHAPTER IX 
TIME, SPACE, AND DIRECTION. 



CHAPTER IX 

TIME, SPACE, AND DIRECTION 

The art of war uses troops the number of which is 
certainly a given factor, but the value and efficiency 
of which can only be estimated ; the art reckons with 
mental and moral forces which from their nature are 
imponderable, but it also reckons with factors that 
can be placed in the strategical and tactical prelimi- 
nary calculation as quantities of a definite value — that 
is to say, the art of war reckons with space and time, 
which have a distinct reciprocal effect upon each other. 
Every military action comes off in a clearly defined 
space, and demands for its execution a mimimum of 
time, with which we have to reckon. The assailant 
bent on beating the enemy tries to gain space at the 
same time. He wants to push the defender from the 
ground he is standing on, so as to confine him more 
and more in space, and deprive him of the means he 
is drawing from the country for his resistance. The 
defender, on the other hand, wishes to secure his 
country against conquest and preserve unimpaired the 
means of resistance afforded by that country. He 
strives not to lose space, and to gain time while making 
this effort. He wants again and again to beat off 
the enemy's attacks until the latter's power of attack 
is exhausted and he gives up the combat. Every gain 
of time is of advantage to him, firstly, because the 
very fact of the time being gained prevents the con- 

183 



i84 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

quest of the country for that period; and, secondly, 
because he forces the assailant to increase his efforts, 
exhausting thereby the latt'er's strength, and procuring 
the chance of awaiting or bringing about a change in 
the political situation. The longer the Austrians could 
keep the field in 1866, the more readily could they 
count upon France's intervention in their favour. Of 
the same import it was to the French in 1870-71 to 
hold out in Paris as long as possible. They not only 
gained time thereby for renewed military efforts in 
the provinces, but could also hope for the intervention 
of the neutral Powers if the fight for the capital con- 
tinued for any length of time. 

Time is for the assailant, in a certain sense, of de- 
cisive importance too. 

It must first of all be counted an advantage if at 
the beginning of hostilities or of any enterprise during 
the war we have completed our preparations sooner 
than the enemy — in other words, if we have finished 
mobilization and concentration, or the assembly of 
troops detailed for a special object, sooner than he. 
In that case we can hope either to attack the enemy 
before he has all his forces ready for defence, and thus 
upset his plans should he himself have prepared for 
an offensive, or oblige him to retreat without fighting, 
gaining thereby at least space and a certain amount 
of moral superiority. 

A further advantage of beginning operations early 
is that in advancing the area of operations separating 
our own from the enemy's army is made smaller for 
the enemy, while we ourselves can make full use of 
it for grouping our forces. This advantage is bound 
to assert itself, especially under the conditions of the 
modern war with masses. The more time all move- 
ments of masses occupy, the more space do we need 



TIME, SPACE, AND DIRECTION 185 

for carrying them out while going forward. A limita- 
tion of the area of operations is therefore a grievous 
disadvantage for an army bent on taking the offensive, 
because its chances for strategic operations decrease 
thereby, while to the enemy, by advancing earlier, ac- 
crues a wider area of, and greater freedom for, opera- 
tions. 

Gaining space is, as a rule, an advantage in war. 
The farther we push the enemy back, and the more 
land we occupy, the more we deprive him of the 
means for conducting the war, which we then can 
use to our own benefit. On the other hand, gaining 
ground may lead us to occupy districts favouring 
operations and the effect of arms, thus affording valu- 
able advantages. Finally, the conquest of hostile coun- 
try has the twofold moral effect of increasing the 
self-reliance and the feeling of superiority of our own 
troops, and of shaking the enemy's confidence in vic- 
tory. 

Accordingly, a loss of ground denotes generally a 
moral and material disadvantage. Yet there may be 
cases where this disadvantage is counterbalanced or 
even outweighed by the military advantages derived 
from an abandonment of space. We can retire with 
the object of occupying ground favourable for fight- 
ing, or to force the enemy otherwise into an unfavour- 
able situation. When the Parthians withdrew before 
Crassus so as to lure him into a hasty pursuit and to 
destroy him then all the more readily, the advantage 
they gained thereby far outweighed the disadvantage 
of the loss of space. It was the same with Russia in 
18 12. The moral and material loss suffered by the 
Russians in retreating was infinitesimal compared with 
the heavy injury caused to the French by their long 
and fatal advance. Owing to the size of the Russian 



1 86 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

Empire and the then poverty of the thinly-populated 
country, the loss of space hardly signified anything to 
the defender, while the g^in of ground, as a matter 
of fact, turned into a decisive disadvantage to the 
enemy. 

There is, however, no advantage or disadvantage 
inherent in the gain or loss of space itself, but that 
it is always the relation of space to the vital military 
forces that lends it a certain amount of importance. 
This leads us to the further conclusion that the de- 
cisive direction, too — that is to say, therefore, the 
direction in which the attack of the military forces 
may be able to produce the greatest success possible 
• — can never be determined purely by space, or even 
by geography, as was taught by the pseudo-scientific 
strategists of past days, in complete misconception of 
the true nature of war. It is always entirely the re- 
lation to the enemy's forces that seems to make a 
certain direction the decisive one; this is so even if 
that relation is not at once recognized, because it is 
an indirect one. 

If we wish to express the fundamental idea of all 
warfare in a form of universal application, we must 
clothe it in the definition : To use the forces available 
in such a way as to attain, in case of success, the most 
decisive effect imaginable — in other words, as to shake 
or break the will of the enemy in the surest manner. 
Any attempt to embody the decisive direction when 
formulating this axiom would destroy its truth and 
general application. But if we have in view a war 
of organized forces only, conditions, therefore, of 
European armies as limited and defined by civilization, 
a systematic importance also attaches to the decisive 
direction; then it will be imperative, as a matter of 
principle, to conduct the attack in the decisive direction 



TIME, SPACE, AND DIRECTION 187 

and the defence at the decisive point, which latter is 
generally determined by the direction of the attack. 
This is already expressed in the term "decisive." If 
we want to break the enemy's will by destroying his 
armaments — his troops, therefore, above all — it is 
clear, in itself, that we must try to bring about a really 
decisive issue, and not only a gradual exhausting of 
the forces, and that we must, therefore, strive to 
bring about the issue in a direction affording at the 
outset favourable chances of success, and just for that 
reason becoming the decisive direction. 

It is impossible to give a definition of the term "de- 
cisive direction" of general application. We must, 
therefore, confine ourselves to discussing the circum- 
stances which may cause us to term a certain direction 
as the decisive one. If we are clear on this, it must 
in each case be left to the commander to decide what 
direction may under the conditions in each case be 
looked upon as the decisive one. 

The assailant wants to beat the enemy and conquer 
the hostile country, so as to deprive the enemy of the 
means for renewing his resistance. The defender 
wants to ward off the attack, inflict such heavy losses 
on the opponent as to oblige him to desist from further 
fighting, and to hold the country that provides him 
with a means for resistance. The decisive direction 
will therefore be for the former that which offers 
the prospect of the surest and most perfect victory 
and the greatest gain of space; the latter will face the 
assailant in a direction where the country will mostly 
favour the effect of his arms and his defensive meas- 
ures, and in which he covers best the space he wants 
to protect and hold. 

If we fix our glance before all upon the assailant, 
who in general has the choice of the direction of at- 



i88 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

tack and lays down the law for the defender, it is at 
once apparent that we must consider the tactical and 
strategical direction apart from each other, because 
both must be determined from altogether different 
points of view; and it is further apparent that the 
tactical and strategical conditions lead to a different 
conception regarding the decisive direction, and the 
commander may therefore be put into the difficult 
position of having to choose between the greater stra- 
tegic or greater tactical advantages. 

As regards tactics, there are in theory three points 
that may fix the decisive direction — the country, the 
disposition of the troops, and the situation of the hos- 
tile army's lines of communication. In reality some 
other circumstances may certainly be of influence — 
different military value of the opposing troops, and 
the defects noticed in the hostile command; but these 
things are of an imponderable nature, and cannot be 
treated scientifically. 

The country has a twofold importance with regard 
to the decisive direction. That direction must often 
be termed the decisive one in which the ground al- 
lows the easiest approach towards the enemy, or the 
most advantageous effect of the arms, thus affording 
the surest prospect of victory; but, then, in all de- 
fensive positions there are some sections or points on 
the ground which are more or less decisive for the 
possession of the whole position. The direction of 
attack against these points must then be termed the 
decisive one. 

A good example for elucidating this point is afforded 
by the Battle of St. Privat. A glance at the map 
shows that in this battle the village of St. Privat 
itself, with the commanding height it was crowning, 
was, without the least doubt, the decisive point. If 



TIME, SPACE, AND DIRECTION 189 

St. Privat was taken, it became not only impossible 
to hold directly the country as far as Amanweiler, but 
the retreat of the Fourth and Third French Corps was 
also most seriously threatened, because then the road 
on Saulny, and thus the rear of the French position, 
lay open to the Germans. A defeat of the French 
left, on the other hand, would have brought the victor 
under the guns of the Forts of St. Quentin and Plappe- 
ville, and could, therefore, never have become of a 
similar decisive importance. 

The disposition of the hostile troops may in so far 
become the determining factor for the decisive direc- 
tion, as it sometimes makes it possible to concentrate 
superior forces against a portion of the position, thus 
bringing about victory. Unprotected flanks of the 
enemy, or fronts too weakly occupied, advanced and 
badly-supported positions, and similar things, will 
often be the cause of fixing the direction of attack. 
Military history abounds with examples illustrating 
the above. Enveloping attacks, flank attacks, and 
penetration, virtually gain their decisive character 
just through the disposition of the enemy's troops. 

Lastly, the direction against the ene^ny's lines of 
communication and lines of retreat is of special im- 
portance. If during the progress of attack we succeed 
in pushing the enemy, or even a portion of his army, 
from the roads connecting the troops with their depots 
and railheads, an exceedingly precarious situation is 
created for the vanquished, entailing too easily com- 
plete demoralization and disorganization of the troops. 
The defender not only loses the connection with his 
supply and ammunition reserves, but also the chance 
of directly covering the space he wishes to hold. Only 
by exacting from the troops the most strenuous ex- 
ertions can he by detours re-establish the proper stra- 



I90 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

tegic situation. Sometimes he may in such a situation 
be even forced to capitulate, if his Hues of retreat 
are completely cut, or the attack itself was made al- 
ready with fronts reversed. 

The difficulty of such a situation grows, of course, 
with the size of the masses to be moved, as they are 
to a greater measure than smaller armies dependent 
on supplies from the rear, and as they will scarcely 
ever find their subsistence in the country itself. If 
the Japanese at Mukden had succeeded in pushing 
the Russian right over the Charbin railway in an 
easterly direction, and in taking possession of this 
important communication, a terrible defeat of the 
Russian Army would have been inevitable. It is, 
therefore, just in the modern war of masses that we 
must more especially pay attention to the chance of 
acting against the hostile communications when de- 
termining the decisive direction of attack. 

If, therefore, the magnitude of success depends, no 
doubt, on the choice of the decisive direction, that 
choice involves, on the other hand, as a rule also the 
greatest dangers. That is in the nature of things, 
because the most important pivots of the enemy's po- 
sition are also most difficult to attack as a rule ; pene- 
tration forces us into frontal attack and involves the 
danger of being enveloped; enveloping the enemy and 
cutting his lines of communication can mostly be 
achieved only by exposing our own to the same extent 
as we threaten those of the enemy; in case of tactical 
failure we may be placed in a position similarly un- 
favourable, at least, as that we meant to prepare for 
the enemy ; and, worse than that, should envelopment 
bring about an attack with fronts reversed, the risk 
we run ourselves is tremendous. 

To determine the decisive direction from the stand- 



TIME, SPACE, AND DIRECTION 191 

point of strategy, we must distinguish between the 
actual operations on a strictly limited theatre of war, 
and the design of a war-plan or the fundamental ar- 
rangements for a whole campaign. In the first case 
it is a question of the relation of two armies acting 
under definite conditions to each other ; in the second, 
of the potency of the States in general, of geographical 
and frequently also of political circumstances. In the 
former case we may speak of an operative decisive 
direction, and in the latter, in a wider sense, of a 
strategic decisive direction. Both terms cannot, of 
course, be strictly distinguished from each other, yet 
they afford the chance of sifting the conditions for our 
reflections. The strategic decisive direction, which 
gives its distinct impress to the plan of campaign, 
forms the basis from which the operations develop. 
In these latter the decisive direction may often change 
and be different for the various army portions. In the 
plan of campaign, on the other hand, the decisive 
direction is a fixed and, as long as the conditions re- 
main the same, a constant term. 

If we fix our glance first, in a wider strategic sense, 
on the latter, it becomes apparent that political and 
geographical conditions greatly affect it in the first 
instance. Policy, of course, must not, as we have seen, 
directly influence military action proper, but we must 
certainly pay heed to the political attitude of neigh- 
bouring States, their neutrality, or their likely par- 
ticipation in the war, and similar conditions. Nor 
must the influence of geographical conditions be con- 
ceived as if any definite geographic direction could, by 
itself, be accepted as the decisive one ; but it must be 
understood to mean that geographical conditions may 
force upon the conduct of war itself certain restric- 
tions, and, on the other hand, hold out favourable 



192 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

prospects. These political and geographical effects 
may thus be of very great import, and may some- 
times be, to some extent, 'opposed to the purely mili- 
tary points of view. 

An examination of actual conditions will best show 
the many ways in which, in this sphere of political 
and geographical strategy, the different points of view 
cross each other — how difficult it therefore is to lay 
down definite rules of action. 

The geographic formation of the frontiers of two 
hostile States will, first of all, exercise a determining 
influence on the whole military action. If, on the 
other hand, to-day a war should break out between 
Italy and France, the chances of attack would obvi- 
ously be very limited for both parties, owing to the 
fact that the frontiers of both States are contiguous 
at comparatively short stretches only, and are formed 
by high mountains, an advance over which would en- 
tail heavy sacrifice, and impose on the conduct of war 
a form altogether distinct. These difficult frontiers 
can only be turned by the narrow strip of coast, which 
can be taken under fire from the sea, or by neutral 
Switzerland, therefore likewise a difficult mountain- 
ous country. Italy has, moreover, to protect a long 
open coastline, which, on the one hand, points France 
towards co-operating in her land operations with her 
fleet, and, on the other, forces Italy into making am- 
ple provisions for the protection of her coast. These 
considerations would no doubt have a great deal to 
say in determining the main direction of attack on 
both sides, and in distributing the forces accordingly. 

The geographical conditions would again assert 
themselves in a different way in a German-Russian 
war. Owing to the spatial extent of the Russian Em- 
pire, a complete subjection, or even conquest, of Rus- 



TIME, SPACE, AND DIRECTION 193 

sia cannot be thought of at all. For Germany it would 
in such a case be always a question of a limited of- 
fensive only, where from the outset the defensive must 
be kept in view. It would therefore be a question of 
not only beating the Russian army, but also of gain- 
ing a position which on the one hand would oblige 
the Russians to assume the offensive on their part, 
and on the other would favour the German defensive. 
It needs no further proof that the geographical con- 
ditions would here, in many respects, be decisive. It 
would depend on cutting Russia off from the sea and 
confining her to her communications by land — there- 
fore, on restricting her to her own inadequate means. 

Geographical conditions will always be of impor- 
tance in details, too. River barriers and mountains 
considerably hinder the movements of armies, and 
render the offensive difficult. The larger the masses 
of the armies, the more these difficulties assert them- 
selves. It hardly need be emphasized that cultivation 
and accessibility caused by the geographical position 
and nature of the theatre of war will affect all military 
operations, and it is just as plain that all these condi- 
tions must also exercise a certain amount of influence 
on the decisive direction of attack. Diflicult and 
inaccessible country we try to avoid in the attack, but 
take advantage of any likely merit in the shape of the 
frontier, while the defender must likewise heed these 
conditions by his counter-measures. 

To what extent the political, in addition to the geo- 
graphical, conditions may have a voice in determin- 
ing what should be considered as the decisive direction 
is clear, for example, from the Franco-German War. 
The French, in 1870, thought to act in the best and 
most decisive way by advancing in the main direc- 
tion of Mainz and separating North and South Ger- 



194 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

many. They hoped that the poHtical particularism of 
the Southern States would assert itself if they ad- 
vanced successfully against the Prussians, and at the 
same time preserved the Southern States as much as 
they could from the horrors of war. 

If we have to fight several opponents, we will gen- 
erally direct the main blow against that enemy from 
whose political intentions we may expect the greatest 
energy in the conduct of the war, hoping by a vic- 
tory over that enemy to make the other, with less 
strong inclinations for war, to falter. But this po- 
litical consideration may run counter to military rea- 
sons. 

Considered from a purely military point of view, 
the main attack should be directed against that enemy 
whom we may expect to crush quickest in the most 
decisive manner, and we should contain the enemy 
on that side which offers the best prospects of defence, 
and on which the enemy is, on the other hand, less 
likely to achieve easily decisive results. It must also 
be considered whether one opponent is likely to appear 
appreciably quicker in the field than the other. If 
the various points of view are antagonistic and cannot 
be reconciled, it is a matter of ingenious tact to decide 
in the one or in the other direction. 

If Germany, for instance, had to conduct a war 
against France and Russia, it would, from a political 
point of view, be desirable to deal France first of all 
as crushing a blow as possible, her enmity towards 
Germany being, no doubt, deeper than Russia's. We 
arrive at the same result if we consider that France 
is ready for war very much quicker than Russia, where 
mobilization and concentration take very much longer 
time than with her western ally ; so that one can hope 
to beat the French before the Russians could become 



TIME, SPACE, AND DIRECTION 195 

dangerous. Nor must it be overlooked that a rapid 
victory over France would at once paralyse the Rus- 
sian conduct of war, and have a cooling effect on Eng- 
land too, who might feel inclined to side with the 
French. 

On the other hand, it must be remembered that 
Germany's strong western frontier can be held defen- 
sively very much longer than her eastern frontier, 
which is less protected by Nature. It renders an 
obstinate and lasting defence of one section after the 
other feasible, and even a victorious opponent cannot 
reach the sources of the German defensive power so 
easily as from the east, which, supported by a glorious 
tradition and a powerful public organization, is most 
productive in the north-east. But a defence of the 
eastern frontier cannot be easily effected with weak 
forces, and it will not be long before Berlin is threat- 
ened by an opponent victorious in the east. 

Under these antagonistic conditions the decision in 
what direction the first main attack must be delivered 
— what, therefore, must be looked upon as the decisive 
direction — will depend on how strongly we estimate 
the resisting power of the French and the offensive 
power of the Russians; but it will also depend, on the 
other hand, on the import and intensity of the political 
motives by which the one or the other side is supposed 
to be swayed, as well as on the general situation in 
the world — that is to say, therefore, on the political 
attitude of the other Great Powers in Europe. The 
chances of other States taking part in the war that has 
broken out must always be kept in view. That must, 
of course, not paralyse the energy of military action 
itself, but may, nevertheless, affect the choice of the 
decisive direction of attack in conclusive manner. If, 
for instance, it could be expected that Austria would 



196 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

intervene in favour of Germany, and England in fa- 
vour of France, in a war which Germany had to wage 
on two fronts, all the conditions determining the choice 
of the decisive direction of attack would at once be 
changed. Every political consideration could, and 
must, then give way in such a case, and the decisive 
direction would be fixed from purely military points 
of view. 

If Austria assumes the offensive against Russia 
from the south-west, or even merely threatens with 
such an offensive, Russia could only carry out an 
intended attack in the general direction of Berlin 
with very much weaker forces than if she could engage 
her whole strength against Germany. The danger 
for Prussia is then much smaller, though still serious 
enough. If England also takes part in the struggle, 
it can be anticipated that the offensive of the combined 
French-English main forces will be conducted through 
Belgium and Holland. In this case not only the strong 
Rhine barrier would be turned, but also the German 
naval basis on the North Sea coast be most directly 
menaced, which is of special importance to England, 
as most concerned in the destruction of the German 
fleet. France, on the other hand, by avoiding South 
Germany, would then try, above all, to crush Prussia, 
with the renewed hope of fanning into new life the 
supposed German particularism. The passionate op- 
position raised by France and England against the 
fortifications of Flushing makes it plain that such a 
plan exists. An English-French attack ol this kind 
would be for Germany of so threatening a nature with 
regard to the North Sea coast and the general direc- 
tion of the attack, that she must, casting aside all other 
considerations, recognize her main task in delivering a 
counter-blow against that offensive. Whence the blow 



TIME, SPACE, AND DIRECTION 197 

must be delivered would depend on the grouping of 
her own fighting forces. 

The reflections hitherto have shown that sometimes 
we cannot avoid taking into consideration political 
circumstances when determining the decisive direction 
of attack; but at the same time they make it plain 
that political considerations are only justified if a pos- 
sible change in the political attitude of States hitherto 
unconcerned or neutral threatens to change also the 
whole military situation with which we must deal. 
The ideal remains always the same, of being able 
to determine the decisive direction of attack from 
purely military points of view, and statecraft has 
solved its task in the most perfect manner if it makes 
it possible for the military command to act in com- 
pliance with this ideal. 

The choice of the direction of attack is then, as a 
rule, a comparatively simple matter, because there 
are then only military points of view to be considered, 
and the object of the war can be directly and logically 
attended to : to beat the hostile forces not only as de- 
cisively as possible, but to stop also the sources of the 
hostile power in such a way as to make it as difficult 
as possible for the enemy to re-establish his army after 
the defeat it has suffered. The direction of attack 
must therefore be chosen so as to make the advance 
end in as decisive a battle as possible, to push the 
enemy's forces from their base — that is to say, from 
their connection with the hinterland — and to threaten 
as directly as possible the main centres of the hostile 
power. In most cases it will be possible to fulfil the 
task thus set by the choice of one main line of opera- 
tion. But the conditions, especially in a war against 
a civilized State conducted with organized armies, may 
sometimes be of such a nature as to make the at- 



198 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

tempt to do justice to all requirements in fixing one 
main line of attack amount to finding the square of 
a circle. This will always' be the case if the enemy's 
main force can nowhere be localized, or the defeat of 
that main force would not promise to bring about the 
decisive issue of the whole war, but holds out only 
the prospect of a limited local success ; if we have, 
therefore, to deal, as it were, with separate wars, as 
may happen in a widely-extended theatre of war. The 
means of breaking the enemy's will remains also in 
this case the same; the only difference is we shall be 
forced sometimes to strive for the decisive issue 
through the co-operation of different armies on sep- 
arate lines of operation. 

The following factors are generally of some ac- 
count in deciding on the choice of the main direction 
of attack : The geographical configuration of the en- 
emy's country and the conterminous frontiers; the 
distribution of the fighting forces and the probable 
intentions of the opponent, which can often be gauged 
by his preparations; the position of the base of the 
hostile army, of the railways joining it with the base, 
and the efficiency of our own railway net in so far as 
it makes the concentration of masses in a definite 
direction seem feasible or not. Special circumstances, 
too, impossible to comprise into categories, may oc- 
casionally be of influence; and, lastly, the time at 
which the attack is to be made is in a certain sense 
also decisive for the direction of attack. To the side 
which is sooner able to operate than the other is given 
the initiative, to which the opponent has to conform. 
This same party has also, on the other hand, some- 
times the chance of attacking the opponent by surprise 
before he is sufficiently prepared to fight. Then the 



TIME, SPACE, AND DIRECTION 199 

shortest line by which the enemy can be reached is 
at the same time the decisive direction of attack. 

Of special importance among the factors determin- 
ing the direction of attack is the situation of the hos- 
tile base in reference to the army, and this is so in par- 
ticular under modern conditions, which cause the 
troops to be greatly dependent on their lines of com- 
munication. We can generally assume the base to be 
the line of railheads behind the field army; in other 
words, the collecting depots at the beginning of the 
offensive and the railheads in the lines of communi- 
cation area during further advance. But in a wider 
sense the capital of the hostile country, and in retreat 
our own capital, will often acquire a great importance 
as a base of operations, because the capital is the 
main centre of all military and civil administration. 

The central authorities are, as a rule, all united in 
the capital; all main arteries of communication con- 
verge on it, so that actually considerable military im- 
portance is in most cases attached to it, this impor- 
tance being enhanced by the fact that the loss of the 
capital would usually produce a far-reaching moral 
effect. 

It may therefore be indeed imperative to select the 
hostile capital as the object of attack. If it is threat- 
ened, it may be anticipated that the hostile main force 
must stand at bay to protect the capital. And if we 
succeed in pushing the hostile forces away from the 
capital, or, more than that, in occupying that place 
itself, the whole administration of the hostile State 
is upset, and thus also the army most seriously 
damaged. 

Especially in France is the importance of the capital 
as the centre of military power still obvious. Paris 
is not only the undisputed and sole spiritual centre, 



200 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

but also the largest fortress and most important ar- 
senal of the country. With Paris France stands and 
falls, and it is not likely that after its capture the 
provinces will successfully resist for any length of 
time. No other capital in the world can claim a simi- 
lar importance. But every one of the other capitals 
is politically and militarily important too, though each 
in a different way. It is so, perhaps, the least in Rus- 
sia, where neither St. Petersburg nor Moscow can 
fully claim to be the national capital of the empire, 
and where both, compared with its spatial extent, 
represent military centres in a limited sense only. The 
defensive power of Russia rests on the extent of the 
country itself. Much more important is Vienna for 
Austria. It forms the common point where many 
various national elements forming the Austrian State 
unite, being thus a real centre in which the forces of 
the different portions of the empire are uniformly 
combined. There is no Austria without Vienna, but 
merely individual portions pursuing interests of very 
different kinds. To hold Vienna is therefore of the 
utmost importance also from a military point of view, 
gaining significance in equal measure as the exclusive 
interests of the various dominions of the Crown de- 
velop. Berlin has not quite the same importance for 
Germany. The country is not by a long way cen- 
tralized in the same way as France, but its internal 
union is very much greater than in Austria. Neither 
as a centre nor as a point of common ground has it, 
therefore, an importance similar to that of Paris or 
Vienna. We can also very well imagine military re- 
sistance to be continued should Berlin even have been 
taken by a Russian invading army. But that city is, 
on the other hand, the centre of the Prussian and 
North Germany military power, in which the strength 



TIME, SPACE, AND DIRECTION 201 

of Germany virtually roots, and is the undisputed po- 
litical centre of the empire. As such it will form, 
no doubt, one of the most important objects of at- 
tack of our adversaries. 

Rome, however, is of no military importance at all. 
Italy's strength rests entirely on her northern prov- 
inces, and it will surely never enter anybody's head 
to form a plan of war having the occupation of Rome 
for its local object. In a war with Italy, from what- 
ever side it may be waged, it will always be a ques- 
tion of defeating the Italian Army in Northern Italy, 
and pushing it towards the Alps away from the ac- 
tual peninsula. If that is successfully accomplished, 
the main issue is decided from a military point of 
view, and it is then only a question of moral import 
whether Rome should be captured as well. 

Some examples will contribute to making the effect 
of the various factors clear which may have a bearing 
on the choice of the direction of attack. 

If we place ourselves upon the Russian standpoint, 
the direction of attack on Berlin is positively the de- 
cisive one, even if Austria should be allied with Ger- 
many. Strong forces can be most rapidly concentrated 
close to the German frontier ; here Russia's most vul- 
nerable portion — Germany's direction of advance on 
St. Petersburg and Moscow — is most directly cov- 
ered; here, opposite the open German frontier, suc- 
cess is, besides, comparatively easiest to achieve. In 
the south-west, on the other hand, the extensive Pri- 
piet swamps guard against an Austrian invasion, and 
afford suitable positions for defence. Russia can there- 
fore hope to have defeated the German armies be- 
fore those of Austria can become dangerous in the 
vast theatre of war. But if Russia's armies have once 
successfully invaded Brandenburg and Silesia, she can 



202 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

attack Austria by enveloping her from different di- 
rections. It would then be extremely difficult for that 
State to gain decisive successes over the hostile armies ; 
while Germany, on the other hand, is still a danger 
to Russia, should the Austrian armies have been 
beaten, and Russian armies be victoriously invading 
Hungary and Galicia. Geographical conditions ac- 
count for this. 

We see that in the domain of higher strategy, when 
plans of campaign have to be designed, the fixing of 
the decisive direction is affected by factors of the 
greatest variety, the importance and effect of which 
can for the most part be only estimated. Full scope 
is therefore always left to individual opinion, it being 
but rarely possible to term simply one direction of 
attack as the decisive one. The same holds good when 
dealing with actual operations — that is to say, with 
movements of armies where a purely military problem 
must be solved in conformity with the general plan of 
campaign, within a distinctly limited theatre of war. 
The conditions are simpler here in so far only as but 
purely military reasons determine the action, provided 
the procedure is sound, and operations and tactical 
issues are very much more directly connected with 
each other than in higher strategy, which deals with 
the plans of campaigns and lays down broadly the 
directions of attack. For the rest, the leading funda- 
mental ideas are the same in the broader domain of 
strategy and in the narrower one of tactics — that is to 
say, to beat the hostile forces as decisively as possible, 
to push them from their lines of communication, and 
to deprive the enemy of the use of as much land as 
is feasible, is always the task, and at the same time 
the means of breaking the enemy's will. The decisive 
direction of the operation must be selected from this 



TIME, SPACE, AND DIRECTION 203 

point of view. Frontal attack, envelopment, flank 
attack, central penetration, are again and again the 
forms with which the problem at hand must be solved ; 
boldness, surprise, and sudden attack are the means 
of raising success to its highest pitch. 

It will generally be a question of either threatening 
the enemy's lines of communication or of choosing 
a line of operation between separate hostile army por- 
tions endeavouring to co-operate. Within these two 
points of view can be comprised most of the cases 
where we have to deal with the choice of the direc- 
tion decisive for an operation. 

The question may be discussed whether a strategic 
flank attack is feasible with the armies of masses in 
modern times. That question, in a certain sense, I 
should rather negative. 

If small armies are concerned, as used to be em- 
ployed in previous wars, a strategic flank attack can 
certainly also be carried out in future, and then with 
less difficulty than formerly, because the modern means 
of communication altogether facilitate every opera- 
tion. 

But if it is a question of the whole army of a great 
State acting as a whole in compliance with a uniform 
idea, a pure flanking operation, an envelopment of 
the enemy's flank with the whole of our forces, is 
then evidently impossible. The breadth of front of 
such an army and its equivalent depth in a flanking 
movement are far too great for such a movement to 
be uniformly carried out. The concentration by rail 
for such an operation, and, before all, keeping the 
lines of communication in proper working order during 
its execution, would no doubt prove impossible. 

It may, however, be feasible to express the funda- 
mental idea on which a flank attack is based by a 



204 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

strategic form which takes due account of modern 
conditions — namely, by the form of a strategic attack 
with one flank refused. ' It may be compared with 
the obhque battle order in the sphere of tactics. What 
is there attained in tactics on a small scale is here re- 
peated in strategy on the very largest scale possible. 
General Freiherr von Falkenhausen has also tried to 
apply the idea of Leuthen to the movements of a mod- 
ern army of masses.* Yet in the example he has 
worked out it does not come to a real strategic flank 
attack, but to an attack upon a wing with a twofold lo- 
cal envelopment of the hostile army portion attacked. 
The strategic intention by which he is guided can, I 
think, be expressed still more strikingly by the attack- 
ing wing not advancing on a straight front, but with 
the army in echelons, the other wing evading the 
hostile blow, which latter is also done by General von 
Falkenhausen. An example — of course, a mere theo- 
retical one — will illustrate the idea in the simplest 
manner. 

Leaving all political conditions alone, we can very 
well imagine a German offensive against France being 
conducted by the northern wing of the German Army, 
with its extreme right along the sea-coast, advancing 
with the armies echeloned forward through Holland 
and Belgium, while the German forces in the south 
evade the blow of the enemy, retiring through Alsace 
and Lorraine in a north-easterly direction, and leaving 
South Germany open to their opponent. The advance 
in echelon of the German attacking wing would force 
the left wing of the opposing army into making a 
great change of front, bringing it by this means alone 
into an unfavourable situation; but in the south the 
French would likewise be obliged to carry out a stra- 
* "Flankenbewegung und Massenheer." 



TIME, SPACE, AND DIRECTION 205 

tegic left wheel, thereby getting into an unfavourable 
position to their base. Strategically would here be 
attained what Frederic the Great achieved by his at- 
tack in echelon at Leuthen tactically. 

A German success in the north would lead straight 
on Paris, and touch the vital arteries of the French 
Army much sooner than the latter could gain decisive 
results in South Germany. In such a case the posi- 
tion of the French army portions which had pene- 
trated into South Germany would likely become ex- 
tremely critical, as they would find their line of retreat 
most seriously threatened from the north. 

There is no need at all for any specially intricate 
and difficult movements of the German Army. It 
would be chiefly a question of properly distributing 
the forces and regulating the extent of the retrograde 
movement of the left wing. That must never be al- 
lowed to go so far as to expose the lines of communi- 
cation of the German right wing. The pivot of the 
movement, which might be fixed somewhere in North- 
ern Lorraine and Luxemburg, must be vigorously 
held, too. People have therefore often thought of 
turning Trier into an army fortress, and the idea of 
fortifying Luxemburg is also partly based on similar 
points of view. These reflections show, at any rate, 
the prominent importance of the fortress of Mainz. 
It would be, further, advisable to hold a strategic 
reserve in a central position, ready for reinforcing, 
in case of need, either the right or the left wing. 

The forward movement of the right would have to 
be made from the Lower Rhine in echelons of armies, 
the leading army being the strongest. The operations 
of the left wing, however, would amount to a great 
strategic wheel to the rear, with much shifting of the 
lines of communication, which must be provided for 



2o6 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

in time. The line of the River Main would be par- 
ticularly suitable as a new base. A comparatively 
strong detachment should, moreover, retire from the 
Upper Rhine in a due easterly direction, to protect 
the outer flank of the army giving way to the north- 
east, and to act as an advanced echelon on the flank, 
as it were, thus giving the chance of enveloping the 
flank of the pursuing enemy. The railways could with 
great advantage be used to support such a diverging 
movement. The offensive of the right would also be 
extremely favoured by the much-ramified Dutch-Bel- 
gian railway system. 

If we summarize what has been so far said on the 
operative capability of large armies in the offensive, 
we find that the commander's will is not at all re- 
stricted to such narrow limits as may appear at first 
sight. Fixing the various rates of movements, com- 
bining marches forward and backward, detailing and 
employing strategic reserves, and echeloning the 
armies, are the most essential means by which the 
commander can manifest his strategic liberty; and 
as any change in the grouping of the forces in march- 
ing forward requires a sufficiently large, open area of 
operations, he will, as a rule, be in a position to secure 
it if he understands how to make some sacrifice in the 
interest of the higher object. 



CHAPTER X 
PRINCIPLES OF COMMAND 



CHAPTER X 

PRINCIPLES OF COMMAND 

"To bring about the combat under as favourable con- 
ditions as possible," is the sole aim of strategy. No 
matter whether we try to attain it mediately or imme- 
diately, this injunction ever remains the ruling factor 
for all strategic action. Where we do not satisfy it, 
we sin against the spirit of war itself, and yet only 
too often do we become aware in military history of 
this sinning against the spirit of war. Even where 
we are convinced of its correctness, we do not always 
act up to it in practice; and we find often enough 
points of view becoming decisive in the strategic meas- 
ures of commanders absolutely contrary to the dictates 
of an issue by combat. The cause, I admit, is often 
that, in spite of correct theoretical knowledge of what 
strategy must strive after, the circumstances them- 
selves are incorrectly appreciated ; but frequently also 
that among the numerous demands of a material and 
personal nature approaching a commander, and the 
many restrictions under which he must act as a rule, he 
either loses the clear perception of the points of view 
decisive for military action, or he is wanting in en- 
ergy, or has no chance of enforcing his will in spite 
of all the difficulties besetting him. 

If we survey the whole domain of frictions, which 
often with a semblance of justification and with the 
pressure of greatest authority assert themselves, we 

209 



210 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

can hardly wonder that over and over again com- 
manders have been urged from the path of logical 
action, and finished with ' adopting half and wrong 
measures. But that is just the worst that could happen 
in war. If in almost all the spheres of practical human 
activity errors once committed can be rectified, and 
losses be made good, errors in military matters, what- 
ever the final result, must be paid in blood. Many 
happy and flourishing human lives fall victims to want 
of character and consistency, truly murderous when 
revealed in military command. 

We must, therefore, peremptorily demand that all 
strategic measures have for their sole object the bring- 
ing about of as favourable conditions as possible for 
the decisive combat. But never must we act the oppo- 
site way — that is to say, look upon concentration and 
war plan as the given factors, and then wait and see 
whether from the situation thus created we can evolve 
tactical victory. 

The above demand looks simple and natural, but is 
in reality, under the very modern conditions, exceed- 
ingly difficult to comply with in full measure. 

But just for this very reason must we emphasize it 
all the more. 

So long, indeed, as we have at our disposal a numer- 
ical or other satisfactory superiority, we may often 
violate the spirit of this demand without losing vic- 
tory over it. Wrong action remains, then, seemingly, 
unpunished, because punishment becomes apparent 
only by the successes being smaller, and the losses 
perhaps greater, and because the surplus in force suf- 
ficed to neutralize the indifferent tactical situation cre- 
ated by the strategic operations. But where oppo- 
nents equally matched face each other, or, more than 
that, where a weaker adversary must try issue with 



PRINCIPLES OF COMMAND 211 

a stronger one, the application of this principle be- 
comes positively decisive for the conduct of the whole 
war. The palm of victory will be carried away by 
him who, in all his measures, most logically and most 
vigorously keeps in view the tactical issue, and knows 
how to bring it about under more advantageous pros- 
pects of success than his opponent. Strategy must 
never be anything but the obedient servant of the tacti- 
cal issue. We must try to grasp clearly what combat 
requires, in what form it is best carried out, and from 
this standpoint we must construe backwards the stra- 
tegic action which precedes combat in time. 

From the requirement that all strategic measures 
should be adopted in deference to decisive combat, 
directly results the further problem of strategy, to 
group and move the troops so that all forces deployed 
in the foremost line come simultaneously into action, 
and that the strategic reserves take part in the main 
issue too. Also the detachments far away from the 
decisive field of action must be employed in such a 
way as to make their activity gain a direct though 
distant effect on the combat fought in the most de- 
cisive direction. Forces which remain inactive during 
the decisive issue are, under any circumstances, a loss 
of force which may often impair the magnitude of 
success, or even jeopardize victory. The enemy must 
everywhere be held fast, and prevented from concen- 
trating his forces in superior numbers in that part of 
the theatre of war in which the decisive combat is 
planned to come off. This holds good for the strategic 
offensive, as well as for the defensive. This makes 
at the same time all those enterprises generally in- 
admissible which a former age was wont to comprise 
in the term "diversion." Diversions are only permis- 
sible if a substantial surplus of force is available for 



212 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

which no room is found in the decisive theatre of war. 
If, for instance, in a war of Germany against Eng- 
land and France, the English made their former 
menace true and landed 100,000 men in Jutland to 
operate on Berlin, such a procedure would be termed 
diversion; it would paralyse the offensive power of 
the adversaries on the decisive field of action more 
than that of the Germans.* 

A further demand which must be made upon the 
art of command in the solution of strategic and opera- 
tive problems is to this effect : The efforts must always 
be directed to maintaining the exterior lines, to making 
the enemy crowd together convergingly, and to never 
exposing oneself to the danger of being enveloped 
and crowded together. 

If the demand of bringing all the forces simul- 
taneously into action is rooted in the nature of war 
itself, and is therefore of general application, the prin- 
ciple of maintaining as much as possible the exterior 
lines is based on the peculiarities of modern war. 

When small numbers are concerned, it is the range 
of modern firearms, and the chance thus created of 
directing a cross-fire upon the enemy who is enveloped, 
from which the superiority of the exterior lines 
originates. But with large numbers the decisive factor 
is the masses. The larger the masses, the more they 
need freedom of movement and well-regulated lines 
of communication to become a potent factor. It is 
easier to preserve both on the exterior lines than on 
the inner line. If the masses of modern armies, when 
deployed on a broad front, are driven back, crowd- 
* On the British Ambassador's menacing question, what 
the Germans would really do if England landed 100,000 
men in Jutland, Bismarck, as we know, answered : "It would 
not hurt us much, after all; they would be simply locked 
up." And he was right in a military sense. 



PRINCIPLES OF COMMAND 213 

ing together on a few roads, the possibility of sub- 
stituting and moving them soon ceases, and then a 
catastrophe is not far off. General von Falkenhausen 
has most vividly and convincingly illustrated this.* 

The principle of keeping to the exterior lines must, 
however, never become a sealed pattern. We must 
always keep in view that this principle of strategy is 
virtually occasioned by the conditions created by the 
masses, and therefore becomes untenable the moment 
space either precludes the dangers of a concentric 
retreat, or the masses are not large enough, when 
concentrated in one place, to be in danger of losing 
their freedom of action. We must, further, always 
bear in mind that all strategic action is ruled by the 
tactical issue — that, therefore, all strategic considera- 
tions must be held in abeyance when tactical success 
is promised. A victory changes all conditions. If, 
for instance, we wish to deduce from the fact that, 
tactical and strategic penetration putting us on the 
inner line, thus involving us in the danger of becoming 
enveloped, we should never attempt penetration, such 
a conclusion would be totally wrong. Successful pen- 
etration, as pointed out already, leads to the envelop- 
ment of two hostile groups, thus affording, after origi- 
nally acting on the inner line, all the advantages of 
the outer lines. The defeated, on the other hand, 
must do his utmost to prevent being crowded together 
in his retreat and pushed from his lines of communi- 
cation. 

The injunction now — to be always conscious, on the 
one hand, of the superiority of the outer lines in mod- 
ern war, and, on the other, to act in each given case 
according to the requirements of the situation, and 
sometimes even in opposition to it — makes us aware 

*In his book, "Flankenbewegung und Massenheer." 



214 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

of a great difficulty in the command of armies, which 
consists in that we have always to reckon with numer- 
ous unknown and doubt f til factors, that we hardly 
ever receive reliable information of the enemy, that 
we can never know what he is going to do, and that 
we can, again, always attain our own object in differ- 
ent ways. So we are, as a rule, divided in our own 
judgment and feelings, since there is no such thing as 
a decision free from objections, and mathematically 
correct, as it were. More than that: even the most 
exact intelligence of the enemy's conditions, which 
we can hardly ever hope to obtain, would not enable 
us to act correctly, without the shadow of a doubt. 
There are many roads always leading to Rome, and 
over and over again are we at the parting of the ways. 
There is only one means of making the decisions 
easier in all these elements of doubt, and to preserve 
unity of action ; the will of using this means unswerv- 
ingly must therefore constantly dominate a comman- 
der. It consists in always, and under any circum- 
stances, even after a defeat and in retreat, preserving 
the initiative and acting in compliance with the pre- 
ponderance of one's own intentions , instead of sub- 
mitting to those of the enemy. He who always tries 
to learn first what the enemy intends doing, in order to 
make up his mind, will always be dictated to by the 
opponent. Ever to remain active, ever to undertake 
something; never, without urgent necessity, to sit still 
and wait — that is what is required of a commander. 
But this injunction gains more particular significance 
under modern conditions. 

As all strategic movements of modern armies of 
masses occupy a great deal of time, and as long dis- 
tances have, as a rule, to be covered in the vast the- 
atres of war, it is very much more difficult than for- 



PRINCIPLES OF COMMAND 215 

merly to carry suitable arrangements through in time 
if we wait with our decisions until we have discovered 
the enemy's intentions. The importance of initiative 
is greatly enhanced compared with former times, as 
I have shown in another place. This cognition im- 
poses upon a commander more strongly the duty of 
preserving this very initiative, and this even if the en- 
emy is bent upon doing the same. 

In such a case superiority is asserted by him who has 
planned the most simple and most decisive operations 
and carries them through with the most unswerving 
energy. 

Action resting on the co-operation of different fac- 
tors always involves a certain risk of failure. Sim- 
plicity and clearness afford a greater guarantee of suc- 
cess. "Far from making it our aim to gain upon the 
enemy by complicated plans, we must rather seek to be 
beforehand with him by greater simplicity in our de- 
signs," says Clausewitz in one place, adding after- 
wards that "of all military virtues, energy in the con- 
duct of war has always contributed the most to the 
glory and success of arms." Not cleverness, however 
high it may be rated, but courage, must in the first 
instance determine our action.* 

Simplicity and energy; it is this, therefore, which 
the great philosopher of war demands from us. But 
courage and boldness, we may add, must be all the 
greater, the greater the danger that is menacing us; 
for they are by themselves factors of success. 

If we now take a comprehensive survey of the ele- 
ments of modern war, of the mass of the troops raised, 
of the abundance of technical adjuncts needed for 
their movements and their communications, of the 
manifold arrangements requisite to supply the troops 
* Clausewitz, "On War/' book iv., chap. iii. 



2i6 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

and keep them efficient for fighting, of the great 
difficulties for unhampered strategic movements caused 
by these very masses — the question instinctively is 
urged upon us, whether it is at all possible to comply 
v^ith the demands of simplicity, and at the same time 
to do justice to energy in the conduct of war. At 
closer reflection this apprehension must vanish. 

What Clausewitz is demanding is simplicity of the 
idea and not of the means. What he wants to see 
avoided are scientific manoeuvres, operations built on 
artificial co-operation of numerous columns, or opera- 
tions trying to achieve victory by strategic round- 
about ways, as he had so often witnessed during his 
lifetime. What he demands are measures striving 
after victory by the straightest, but also the most de- 
cisive road, and nothing was further from his mind 
than to recognize in technical difficulties a sufficient 
reason for not carrying out an operation in itself con- 
ceived in simple form. 

Nor must we in this sense be deterred by any tech- 
nical difficulties from carrying out what, from a mili- 
tary point of view, we consider to be imperative. We 
must rather endeavour to reduce all operations, the 
march and supply technics, to such simple formulas 
and rules, and to make the troops so much accustomed 
and familiar with them, that the execution of the 
various strategic movements are no longer found to 
be difficult at all. 

Commanders and troops must be past masters in the 
art of operations, if simple movements are really to 
run smoothly. Simplicity of action which confers 
superiority over the adversary is derived from com- 
plete familiarity with the means of warfare alone. 
Experimenting in the face of the enemy is, however, 
always dangerous, and where intelligence of the stra- 



PRINCIPLES OF COMMAND 217 

tegic requirements is wanting, command will fail in 
the solution of even the simplest problems. 

When General von Steinmetz, in 1870, took com- 
mand of the First Army, he had probably never pre- 
pared in his mind for such a task. He was, therefore, 
still imbued with antiquated ideas and had not the 
slightest notion of how to arrange the marches of an 
army. More than that, he was even obstinately deaf 
to all remonstrances of his Chief of the Staff. We 
saw the consequences. The advance to the Battle 
of Spicheren brought the First Army into such a state 
of confusion, got it into such a maze, that it took days 
before it could be disentangled, and during that time 
it was scarcely able to deploy if the French had sud- 
denly attacked, which was not at all unlikely. 

If, therefore, simplicity of the strategic idea, trying 
to attain the object as directly as possible, is what 
command should invariably aim at, we must, on the 
other hand, not take this to mean that we should al- 
ways strive only after the most common and after 
what is lying nearest at hand. That would ultimately 
lead to the crudest naturalism, to totally inartistic ac- 
tion, and would, on the other hand, as a rule be con- 
trary to the fundamental axiom of the art of war to 
aim always at the highest object. If we wish to satisfy 
this injunction, we must, in war, often resolve upon 
enterprises the execution of which cannot be always 
simple, such as operation against the flanks and rear 
of the enemy, penetration of the enemy's position, and 
similar things. We must never fight shy of such ac- 
tion merely for the love of simplicity; we must only 
try to carry out the action in the most simple and 
most natural manner, without counting upon an intri- 
cate strategic clockwork working exactly. 

Also, energy of action, demanded by Clausewitz, 



2i8 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

proceeds but from a perfect mastery of the material 
forces, and from a clear perception of likely success. 
The principle of acting always with the utmost en- 
ergy does, as was shown in another chapter, not only 
hold good for the Commander-in-Chief; it must also 
become law for every commander of troops if the ut- 
most is to be performed everywhere. Energy forms 
the necessary complement to the simplicity demanded, 
for it conquers also unforeseen difficulties, thus pro- 
moting simplicity of action. In 1757, Schwerin and 
Winterfeld wrote to King Frederic: 'Tt is true that in 
all operations difficulties arise, but we must despise 
them, and conquer them by good dispositions and vig- 
orous execution." "Activite, activite! vitesse!" thus 
admonishes Napoleon his subordinate leaders, and we 
see Frederic the Great, too, incessantly summon his 
generals to activity and action. 

Though, in addition to simplicity, indefatigable en- 
ergy also forms a necessary element in the command 
of troops, yet it must, on the other hand, never degen- 
erate into arbitrariness; we must, rather, demand 
that the uniformity of the military action as a whole 
must, with all deference to energy in detail, be pre- 
served. The great purpose of the total action must 
never be lost sight of for the love of energy in a single 
action. 

When General von Schwerin, in 1757, broke from 
Silesia into Bohemia with the object of co-operating 
with the King's army for delivering a crushing blow, 
the Austrian General Serbelloni was standing with a 
strong corps on his flank at Koniggratz. The tempta- 
tion of defeating that corps before he could join the 
King was great, and Schwerin was nearly succumbing 
to it. A crushing blow upon Serbelloni was not at all 
beyond the pale of possibility, and in itself offered 



PRINCIPLES OF COMMAND 219 

great advantages ; it was but natural that an energetic 
general should be attracted by such an enterprise. But 
that plan was in conflict with the great idea upon which 
the whole campaign was based. The Field-Marshal 
renounced the enterprise that would have led him 
away, and, responding to the King's bold flight of 
thought, he left the enemy unmolested on his flank 
and in his rear, marching without delay to the main 
decisive issue. 

The campaign of 1866, too, is both instructive and 
interesting with regard to the required unity of action. 

It was because this very unity of action was want- 
ing that Moltke's idea to destroy the enemy was not 
realized. Field-Marshal Graf Schlieffen has proved 
this in a striking manner in his spirited discussion of 
the Bohemian campaign given in the oft-mentioned 
essay "Cannae." * Army Headquarters did not 
throughout make efforts to carry out Moltke's ideas, 
but acted from their own points of view, which were 
quite contrary to Moltke's. "The idea," writes Graf 
Schlieffen, "to destroy the enemy, which entirely ab- 
sorbed Moltke, was perfectly foreign to the subordi- 
nate commanders. They thought it was their task to 
see that the separate armies should effect a junction. 
. . . The immediate object of the war was for the 
Army Headquarters the concentration of 250,000 men 
at Gitschin or Miletin in one single mass." 

Moltke intended to surround the enemy on all sides 
by advancing with the army from widely separated 
points. His subordinates thought they were acting par- 
ticularly vigorously if they did not fall in with this 
intention, but assembled their forces for battle locally. 
The Field-Marshal was served in the same way as was 

* "Vierteljahrshefte fiir Truppenfiihrung und Heeres- 
kunde," 1910, vol. ii. 



220 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

Frederic the Great when he intended to capture the 
Austrian Army at Prague. The learned soldiers of 
his time, with Prince Henry at their head, looked 
upon this as a kind of madness; they, too, always 
wanted to defeat the enemy in accordance with definite 
customary rules only, like the Prussian Army Head- 
quarters in 1866. 

Count Schlieffen characterizes the measures of the 
army commanders for the advance as follows : The 
Prussian successes had hitherto been achieved by the 
"fire of the needle-gun" and by ^'outflanking." "The 
fire of the needle-gun was therefore now to be cur- 
tailed by formations in mass and organization in 
depth, and outflanking was to be prevented by con- 
tracting the front," * while Moltke was trying to at- 
tain the very opposite. It was in vain that he strug- 
gled against the particularism of the Army and Army 
Corps Headquarters and against the complete misap- 
prehension of his ideas. The proof of this fact is 
traced by Count Schlieffen throughout the whole cam- 
paign of 1866, and he shows how by this very fact 
all successes were stunted and grave dangers conjured 
up. These reflections show the absolute necessity of 
Army Headquarters, as well as of all superior com- 
manders, doing their utmost to act in the spirit and 
sense of the Commander-in-Chief, and to carry out 
his intentions, even if they themselves do not share 
the views upon which they are based. It is then only 
that uniformity can be attained. 

A subordinate commander is only justified and 
obliged to depart independently from the directives of 
his superior, if the situation with the enemy proves, 
without doubt, totally different from what was antici- 

* "Vierteljahrshefte fur Truppenfiihrung und Heeres- 
kunde," 1910, vol. ii. 



PRINCIPLES OF COMMAND 221 

pated by the superior commander; yet even then his 
efforts must be directed to preserving the uniformity 
of action in the spirit of General Headquarters. But 
the efforts of the subordinate commanders to live up to 
the ideal must, on the other hand, be also met by the 
Commander-in-Chief. He must be required to make 
his intentions perfectly intelligible, relentlessly enforc- 
ing their execution vv^here met by systematic resist- 
ance. Count Schlieffen proves that this problem v^as 
not solved in 1866. Moltke v^as not understood, and 
the v^ill of General Headquarters was not enforced 
in the face of the Army Headquarters. 

''Other commanders, too," writes the Field-Marshal, 
"had to reckon with want of intelligence, training, 
and resolution of their subordinate commanders. 
They tried to remove these defects by the inviolability 
of their authority and the peremptoriness of their or- 
ders. Moltke being not a commander, but merely 
Chief of the General Staff, was deprived of sufficient 
authority, and was not empowered to speak with the 
firmness of a commander. He had to make the best 
of politely advising, of obligingly leaving it to the 
discretion of directives, and of similar makeshifts, and 
was only allowed, at the direst necessity, to prevent 
the most glaring blunders by a Royal "1 order you." 
Similar conditions also obtained repeatedly in 1870- 
71. They must not occur in the future. 

The Commander-in-Chief has a right to rely on all 
his subordinates showing an implicitly accommodating 
mind, on their entering without reserve into the spirit 
of his intentions, and on an obedience not merely for- 
mal ; but it is no doubt as well his sacred duty to take 
care that in peace and in war his intentions are un- 
derstood, and to enforce relentlessly, in case of need, 
the uniformity and energy of action. He can but then 



222 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

count upon attaining those great objects he is in duty 
bound to pursue. 

In another place it was'shown that it is theoretically 
impossible to determine universally the highest aim 
which can be striven after in war. It depends in each 
case on the proportionate strength of the adversaries 
and on the particular circumstances. But, considered 
by itself, the total annihilation of the hostile fighting 
forces is a success that cannot be surpassed from a 
military point of view, and must therefore be looked 
upon as the utmost attainable. We see, moreover, 
that the greatest commanders in all ages ever kept 
this object in sight as the greatest achievement of 
military success. In King Frederic's plans of war 
and battles, this idea of destroying the enemy being 
the main object is, above all, most clearly manifested. 
Many commanders have politically placed their aims 
higher than the great Prussian King; but none has 
thought greater in military matters, intended anything 
more decisive, and ventured more than the ''Old 
Fritz." But Moltke took him again for his pattern. 
Both had in mind the destruction of the enemy. They 
did not merely want to conquer, they wanted to destroy 
the enemy — to render all further combat superfluous. 
It is the highest possible aim they set themselves. To- 
tal destruction of the opponent is always the most 
advantageous, because it sets the whole of the victor's 
forces free for other duties. The fact that the Ger- 
mans succeeded in sweeping four hostile armies com- 
pletely away from the theatre of war by the capture 
of Metz and Paris, by the destructive Battle of Sedan, 
and by the brilliant campaign of Manteuffel in the 
south, gave them that tremendous superiority which 
made any further resistance of the adversary per- 
fectly hopeless, and also kept within bounds hostile 



PRINCIPLES OF COMMAND 223 

neutrals. For a campaign ending with the total de- 
struction of the enemy may be of the greatest im- 
portance politically, by setting the forces of the State 
free ; and Moltke knew very well what he did when, in 
1866, he intended to put into practice the idea of de- 
stroying the enemy. For there was a dark cloud 
threatening for years on the western political horizon. 
If Moltke's plan of campaign had been carried through 
in the way it was conceived, the Austrian-Saxon Army 
must have surrendered its arms on the Bistritz, or 
complete tactical destruction would have been its fate. 
Had France then intervened, the Prussian main forces 
would have been available on the Rhine, and peace 
might as yet have been dictated in Paris in that same 
year. But because the battle did not turn out as 
destructive as it was intended, and as, on this account, 
strong Prussian forces were tied to the Austrian the- 
atre of war, a situation, rather critical, was created 
which might have become dangerous, if France had 
actually drawn the sword and Austria had resolutely 
continued her resistance. 

It goes without saying that in war we cannot always 
place our aims equally high, and yet in all military 
action, from the plan of campaign to the surprise of 
a piquet, the idea of destroying the enemy must he the 
ruling factor. To destroy as many of the enemy as 
possible — that is to say, to render harmless — must be 
the object of every military action; then only do we 
lend it that character which is directed to the utmost 
and conforms with the nature of war. Every military 
plan must be examined from that point of view. It 
must become the guiding star, particularly of the com- 
mander of the future. That star, it is true, points to 
a path of the gravest dangers and greatest sacrifices. 
Enveloping and surrounding the enemy, fighting with 



224 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

fronts reversed, abandoning our own communications 
— these are the operations to which we are directed, 
be they the smallest or the largest; but by acting in 
this way the greatest prospects of brilliant successes 
are held out to us at the same time. ''Audaces for- 
tuna adjuvat" ("Fortune favours the bold"), wrote 
Winterfield to his King in 1757. 

We must in all enterprises of war see less of dan- 
gers and more of likely successes. This must be our 
standing rule. The same as we always fall short of 
the success we strive after, so the possible dangers 
will never all come true. The errors committed by the 
enemy, for the simple reason that he does not know 
the intentions of his opponent, square many things, 
and, indeed, all the more so the bolder and the more 
suddenly we attack him. Certainly we shall weigh 
before we venture; but the venturing must follow, 
and over the weighing the time for action must not' 
slip away unused. The German Field Service Regu- 
lations are right, "that supine inaction and neglect 
of opportunities deserve severer censure than an error 
in conception of the choice of means," and nowhere 
more than in war hold good the words of Hamlet : 

"And thus the native hue of resolution 
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought; 
And enterprises of great pith and movement, 
With this regard, their currents turn awry, 
And lose the name of action." 



CHAPTER XI 
SOME CONSIDERATIONS ON NAVAL WARFARE 



CHAPTER XI 

SOME CONSIDERATIONS ON NAVAL WARFARE 

Having broadly discussed in the preceding chapters 
the main points for conducting war on land, there is 
still one branch to be touched upon which, as we have 
seen, will play an important role in every great war 
of the future — namely, naval warfare. 

It cannot, of course, be my intention to discuss in 
detail the technical and tactical questions peculiar to 
naval warfare. That I must leave to more qualified 
writers, to men aided by professional knowledge and 
experience. But since a war by sea may, by itself, 
gain in future a very considerable importance, more 
particularly for Germany, and exercise a great effect 
on the course and the issue of a war by land, it seems 
imperative to discuss, at least briefly, the general points 
of view which appear to me to be of particular sig- 
nificance in naval warfare, and its relation to a war on 
land. 

It is, of course, exceptional when land and naval 
forces directly co-operate with each other; therefore, 
in general they will do so only when effecting a land- 
ing or when re-embarking, and when dealing with a 
naval fortress, such as happened, for example, in the 
case of Port Arthur. There the naval forces of both 
parties took a share in the attack as well as in the 
defence of that fortress. We can further imagine that 
troops on land are taken under fire by the fleet, if they 

227 



228 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

are marching or are obliged to fight within range of 
naval guns, as may easily happen, for instance, in the 
Riviera. On the other hand, land operations may very 
well be indirectly affected by the fleet offensively as 
well as defensively, and this may often become highly 
significant. 

This manifests itself most strikingly in the case of 
island States, such as England and Japan. A war 
by land for them is altogether possible only with the 
aid of a fleet. The latter must first of all sweep the 
hostile warships completely off the sea, and establish 
safe naval communication between its own and the 
enemy's country. It must then reduce any likely ex- 
isting coast defences and remove any mines before a 
landing is possible. It must further not only protect 
the transport of troops, prepare and cover the landing 
itself, and, lastly, secure the lines of communication 
of the landing corps in so far as they lead across the 
sea; but, in case of need, make possible and secure 
re-embarkation and retreat. Landing and re-embarka- 
tion must be effected under cover of long-range naval 
guns, so that both these operations may not be endan- 
gered by the enemy's land forces. The fleet can only 
carry out all these duties safely, and prevent adverse 
incidents, if it defeats the hostile fleet, blockades it in 
its ports, and tries to render the hostile auxiliary cruis- 
ers harmless. 

In a defensive war of an insular State, the duty of 
the fleet culminates in preventing, firstly, hostile land- 
ings by defeating the enemy's fleet, and, secondly, in 
keeping open the ocean highway for the import of pro- 
visions and war material. For England — which, for 
the subsistence of her population, depends almost en- 
tirely on foreign countries — this duty of the fleet is 
of particular importance, since the country could be 



NAVAL WARFARE CONSIDERATIONS 229 

simply starved if imports were cut off. Nor does Ja- 
pan produce all she wants herself, especially rice ; she 
can therefore be severely injured by cutting off sup- 
plies from abroad. 

If, in spite of all efforts of the fleet, the enemy 
succeeds in retaining command of the sea and effecting 
a landing, it is the duty of the defending fleet to dis- 
turb constantly, and, if possible, cut off altogether, the 
lines of communication of the landing corps with its 
home country. 

The Russo-Japanese War furnishes a very instruc- 
tive example for most of these conditions. Only by 
destroying a portion of the Russian fleet by surprise, 
and blockading the rest at Port Arthur, was it possible 
for the Japanese to bring their army over to Korea, 
and to supply it permanently from home. Yet, in 
spite of their decided naval superiority, which they 
actually maintained undisputed, the Russian cruiser 
squadron at Vladivostok, which had retained some 
freedom of movement, succeeded in capturing and 
destroying a few Japanese transports. 

The influence of the fleet on a war of Continental 
States will, of course, not assert itself in this decisive 
fashion; yet cases may nevertheless arise where a 
naval war may indirectly very much affect operations 
on land. A few examples will best illustrate the man- 
ner in which this may occur. 

If Germany should once be forced to conduct an of- 
fensive war against Russia, it would be of the utmost 
importance for her to gain undisputed command of 
the Baltic. She could then completely paralyse mari- 
time traffic on the Russian coast, thus preventing im- 
ports of war material from other States like England 
and France, by sea at least ; she would oblige the ad- 
versary to use a considerable number of troops for pro- 



230 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

tecting the coast and securing St. Petersburg, which 
would be directly menaced ; she could, lastly, carry out 
a very much bolder offensive by land, if she were able 
to base herself partly on the coast. If her fleet com- 
manded the great Russian Baltic ports to such an ex- 
tent as to permit men and war material to be landed 
there, and to join thence the field army, the Ger- 
man Army would have the chance of advancing along 
the coast, enveloping from the north all Russian armies 
operating in the western provinces of the country, 
partly interrupting and partly threatening their lines 
of communication with St. Petersburg, and pushing 
these armies ultimately in a southern direction. The 
fleet in such a case would enable the army to make its 
attack in the decisive direction, thus very materially 
contributing to a likely victory. The fleet should 
therefore seek as soon as ever possible for a decisive 
issue with the Russian fleet, to beat it, and blockade 
its remnants in their places of refuge. This success 
must immediately be followed up by blockading the 
Russian Baltic coast and by the capture of the most 
important harbours. 

The fleet would be of similar importance if, in a 
separate war between Germany and France, a German 
attack was conducted through Belgium. In this case, 
too, a German offensive could act with the utmost 
strategic freedom if the French fleet were beaten, and 
the German commanded the sea to such an extent as 
to allow the German land forces to base themselves at 
least partly on the coast. 

Frederic the Great, we know, drew up a war-plan 
starting from this idea. He assumed, in compliance 
with the conditions then obtaining, England, Austria, 
Prussia, and Holland to be allied against France, 
which had her main army assembled in Flanders, while 



NAVAL WARFARE CONSIDERATIONS 231 

protecting her other frontiers by special corps. In 
the face of this disposition, the King on his part 
wanted to assemble the main army of the allies in the 
north too. It was to advance from Brussels, and beat 
first of all the enemy's army supposed to be in Flan- 
ders; it was then to march off to the right, capture 
Dunkirk, Bergues, and Gravelingen, then base itself 
on Newport, Dunkirk, and the English fleet, and, turn- 
ing nearly all the hostile frontier fortresses in the west, 
advance by Abbeville on Paris. The times have cer- 
tainly changed since the great King designed this 
project, but the broad characteristic features in the 
conduct of war have remained the same, and so the 
idea underlying this plan of compaign would still re- 
tain its importance under similar political conditions 
even to-day. 

The defence of colonies, too, whose coasts are in- 
sufficiently protected by fortifications can generally be 
only effected indirectly by acting offensively against 
the hostile fleet. By attacking and defeating it, with 
the object of destroying next the transport fleet, carry- 
ing the troops detailed to land and attack the trans- 
oceanic colonies, we can prevent the enemy from lay- 
ing hands on them. If we are not strong enough to 
proceed in this manner, and if the colonies have not 
sufficient land forces of their own to ward off an at- 
tack themselves, we must abandon them for the time 
being, and may lose them sometimes altogether. The 
English would surely not hesitate to seize the German 
colonies in a war with Germany, and keep them should 
England remain victorious, in the same way as they 
once deprived Holland and France of their most val- 
uable colonial possessions. 

When considering the activity of the fleet and its 
effect on war by land, we must keep in view that the 



232 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

defensive action of the fleet is ruled by laws altogether 
different from the procedure characterizing the de- 
fensive in a war by land/ 

On the sea we can act strategically on the offensive 
and defensive. In the first case we would search for 
and attack the hostile fleet, blockade the enemy's ports, 
try to reduce his coast defences, and do as much injury 
to his trade as possible. In the other case, however, 
we would await the opponent's attack, supported by 
our own coast and its resources, and try to prevent the 
enemy from carrying through his offensive intentions. 
The difference is solely one in the mode of operation, 
as occasioned by the intention of attacking or defend- 
ing. But the difference between the offensive and de- 
fensive disappears in naval warfare altogether in tac- 
tics, in so far as that difference is not occasioned by a 
variety in the type of ships, because ground is want- 
ing, and ground is the first requisite of any tactical 
defensive. Assailant and defender by sea make use of 
absolutely the same means under entirely the same 
conditions. If one fleet wished to await the attack 
standing still, it would be at once doomed. It will 
certainly happen that a fleet will be attacked by tor- 
pedo boats when at anchor or sailing, and defend itself 
against this attack. The distinction between attack 
and defence is here represented by the various types 
of ships. Torpedo boats can only act offensively, and 
battleships can only repulse them by artillery fire. 
This condition is never altered, even if the torpedo 
boats are engaged on the strategic defensive and the 
battleships on the offensive. 

It is also quite possible that one party acts more 
offensively than the other ; that one party attacks like 
Togo at Tsushima, and the other accepts the combat 
but under the stress of circumstances, like the Russians 



NAVAL WARFARE CONSIDERATIONS 233 

in the same battle. That does not mean any differ- 
ence at all in the mode of fighting, but merely a differ- 
ence in the strategic intention, and sometimes in the 
energy of conducting the fight, which depends on per- 
sonal qualities. In the same way is the less efficient 
fleet also obliged to accept the law from the enemy for 
its tactical procedure, and appears, therefore, more to 
defend than to attack, as can be traced throughout the 
whole Battle of Tsushima. But in situations like these 
the difference in the attitude is occasioned by the vary- 
ing efiiciency of the ships and not at all by the antag- 
onism of attack and defense. Torpedo nets and mines 
may be looked upon as the only real defensive means 
in naval warfare. We can compare them with the 
obstacles and the system of mines in land defences. 
But the action of the fleet itself is entirely independent 
of them. 

As regards the fleet, it can, even on the strategic 
defensive, act always tactically only on the offensive — 
that is to say it must put to sea and attack the hostile 
fleet if it means to fight at all. By sea there is only 
an active defence though it may be supported by mines 
and coast defences. The defending fleet has, in gen- 
eral, the sole advantage of being able to retreat, some- 
times rapidly, under the shelter of its own land de- 
fences and of having its base directly behind it — that 
is to say, docks, workshops for repairs, ammunition, 
and coal depots, and so forth. It is supposed, of 
course, that the pivots on land are to some extent fa- 
vourably situated with regard to the field of action 
of the fleet, which is, indeed, not always the case, but 
is naturally assumed to be so in theory. The attacking 
fleet is, on the other hand, often very far away from 
all these auxiliaries, and has therefore, in this respect, 



234 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

to contend, as a rule, with far more difficult conditions 
than the defender. 

In spite of the advantages which, as in war on land, 
benefit the strategic defensive, the strategic offensive 
remains, after all, superior by sea as well. It affords 
in naval warfare the same advantages as on land. 

We can try to surprise the enemy, act in accord- 
ance with a definite plan designed by ourselves for the 
attainment of a clearly-defined object, force the en- 
emy to have the last hand and enjoy the politically 
and morally important advantages of the initiative. 
We can also strive to block the hostile ports by rapidly 
laying mines, and thus not only hampering and endan- 
gering the enemy's trade, but also rendering the base 
of the hostile fleet unsafe. In the face of advantages 
of this kind, the defender — that is to say, the party 
which assumes at first an expectant attitude, and wants 
to make its action dependent on the measures of the 
adversary — is evidently, in so far, at a disadvantage, 
as it must prepare for an attack from every possible 
direction, and cannot, therefore, keep its forces from 
the outset concentrated, and engage them in a definite 
direction. 

As a disadvantage of the strategic assailant can only 
be adduced the fact that his lines of operation and com- 
munication are often very long, not only rendering 
preservation of the fighting capacity of the fleet very 
difficult, but also offering the enemy numerous points 
of attack, which may in case of a tactical defeat be- 
come fatal. The perilous voyage of the Russian fleet 
under Rojdestvensky to Eastern Asia shows this dan- 
ger in a striking manner. It is therefore obvious that 
the advantages of the strategic offensive must become 
all the more prominent the shorter the lines of opera- 
tion with which the attack has to deal, and that the 



NAVAL WARFARE CONSIDERATIONS 235 

length of the lines of operation may sometimes induce 
us to select the strategic defensive. Guarding the lines 
of communication and supplies absorbs very consid- 
erable forces, and may entail such a substantial weak- 
ening of the forces as to neutralize thereby the ad- 
vantages of the offensive. 

These reciprocal effects of strategic offensive and de- 
fensive are also, doubtless, one of the reasons why they 
always talk in England only about the growth of the 
German Navy, about the danger this means for Eng- 
land, but never about the stronger American Navy. 
The English know very well that, considered from a 
purely military point of view, an attack upon their 
island is very difficult to carry out from America, 
just on account of the distance, and that even they 
themselves can in a war become dangerous to America 
only through incurring the greatest sacrifices and ex- 
ertions. A naval victory over Germany, on the other 
hand, situated as she is directly opposite the English 
coast, is much easier to achieve, promising success at 
a much smaller expense than one over America. With 
this latter competitor it is therefore much easier to 
remain on good terms; the other must be destroyed, 
if possible. 

Conditions such as will obtain in a naval war be- 
tween England and America make, however, no dif- 
ference in the reciprocal effect of attack and defence 
by sea. They represent only a particular case, the 
peculiar circumstances of which must be taken into 
account in the application of the fundamental de- 
mands. Each of the two States would, in the case of 
war, have to consider whether the disadvantages of 
the long lines of operations would outweigh the ad- 
vantages of a strategic offensive or not. The offensive 
itself remains, in spite of this, the real soul of war, 



236 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

just as on land, and it is no doubt imperative to pro- 
ceed offensively as a matter of principle, if the propor- 
tionate forces and the particular circumstances hold 
out the chance of success. 

If we have to deal with a weaker adversary, or one 
equal to us, the resolve to attack, all things being 
otherwise approximately equal, will generally urge it- 
self upon us. In a separate war of Germany against 
France or Russia, for instance, it would surely never 
enter the heads of the German naval authorities to 
wait for the attack of the enemy; but the enemy 
would no doubt be hunted up in his own waters, in 
spite of all the submarines defending particularly the 
French coast. But if the enemy is superior, the sep- 
aration of his forces will give occasion to local vic- 
tories. Every such occasion must be resolutely taken 
advantage of; nor must we, in such a case, be afraid 
of taking the enemy even by surprise, as the Japanese 
did take the Russians. Merely by their bold political 
and strategic offensive did they succeed in attacking 
the Russian naval forces when separated, in gaining 
thereby a decided superiority, and in permanently pre- 
venting a junction and effective activity of the Russian 
ships. It is a brilliant example of boldness and 
strength of resolution. 

As separation of forces always entails the danger 
of small detachments being defeated in detail, we must 
try to escape this danger by using our own battle 
fleet as unitedly as possible, and keeping it as con- 
centrated as we can, so that we may act widi our full 
strength wherever we resolve to fight, and not expose 
ourselves in any case to be defeated in detail. There 
can generally be no such thing in naval warfare as 
conducting a delaying action, engaging the forces 
gradually, nor therefore detailing reserves. To begin 



NAVAL WARFARE CONSIDERATIONS 2^7 

the combat with a portion of the forces, and then to 
engage the main body at the decisive point, is im- 
possible on the sea. Numerical superiority has here 
a much more destructive effect than in war on land, 
because on water it is, much more than on land, a 
question of war machines fighting against each other. 
If many ships concentrate their fire on a few, then, 
all things being otherwise equal, the former have 
every chance of being successful. On water all the 
elements are wanting which on land may help the 
weaker to be superior; above all, the country is want- 
ing which gives cover from fire and view, thereby af- 
fording the chance of deceiving the enemy aboot the 
direction and strength of the attack. On the open 
sea everybody has the same range of view, no ship 
can hide itself, and, all else being equal, the numerically 
stronger must be victorious. 

It is therefore a principle in naval warfare to unite 
the forces in space and time. 

From this point of view one can easily understand 
why the English have lately concentrated the bulk of 
their fleet in the North Sea. Owing to the extent of 
their colonial possessions and the necessity of having 
to guard the sea-route to India, they are obliged to 
divide their fleet. But opposite that State which they 
intend to fight first of all, they want to limit this divi- 
sion to the smallest possible minimum. 

Concentration of the forces in space of time must, 
of course, not be understood to mean that there should 
be no detaching at all. Locally limited and isolated 
offensive strokes of cruisers or torpedo-boat flotillas 
will often be imperative, partly for reconnaissance, and 
partly for taking advantage of any particularly favour- 
able opportunities the enemy may offer. Especially at 
the beginning of the war, and sometimes in peace even 



238 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR • 

— if there is no other means of defending oneself 
against superior force — it will be advisable to attack 
the enemy by torpedo and submarine boats, and to in- 
flict upon him unexpected losses. 

War upon the enemy's trade must also be early and, 
if possible, suddenly initiated, if valuable success is 
to be achieved. If the enemy is once prepared for it, 
he will turn his own auxiliary cruisers to account and 
warn his own trading vessels. The first and most im- 
portant success can only be attained by surprise. This 
war must also be conducted as ruthlessly as possible, 
since only then, in addition to the material damage 
inflicted upon the enemy, the necessary terror is spread 
among the hostile merchant fleet, and thereby more 
injury done than by the capture of actual prizes. A 
certain amount of terrorism must be practised on the 
sea, making peaceable tradesmen stay in the safe har- 
bours. It is customary, as a rule, to convoy prizes 
to the nearest port at home and to destroy them only 
in case of need, as is also provided for in the London 
Declaration. But the party with few naval pivots of 
its own in foreign waters will very often find itself in 
a position to assume its case to be one of need, and 
will then naturally destroy at once the hostile ships 
captured ; short work must likewise generally be made 
of neutral ships carrying contraband. Mines which 
we intend to lay for disturbing hostile trade, or for 
barring the home waters, must also be held ready in 
peace-time, so as to be at once used at the beginning 
of the war. 

The offensive fleet itself must, of course, be equipped 
with the requisite adjuncts of transport ships and 
reconnoitring organs. It will, before all, be important 
to organize a regular supply of coal and ammunition, 
and an early evacuation of sick and wounded, es- 



NAVAL WARFARE CONSIDERATIONS 239 

pecially when the lines of operation are long. These 
things must be so regulated as to allow the squadrons 
to operate with perfect freedom. Their activity is un- 
der all circumstances decisive. Nor can any coast de- 
fences resist an attack for any length of time without 
the co-operation of the active fleet ; they will succumb, 
and it will then be possible for the enemy to land 
troops on the coast attacked and to intervene in the 
land operations directly from the sea coast. The bat- 
tle-fleet must therefore strive by all means to defeat 
the enemy, and to seek for a decisive issue, if in any 
way possible, especially when, by surprise or local 
victories, we have succeeded in weakening the hostile 
force right at the beginning of the war. 

There may, however, be conditions making such 
action of the battle-fleet — challenging an issue — ac- 
tually impossible; and this will be the case if one has 
to fight an enemy overwhelmingly strong, who has 
his forces united and ready for immediate action. In 
such a case a strategic offensive, seeking for a decisive 
issue, is no doubt inexpedient. It could only lead 
to the ruin of one's own fleet, without the chance of 
inflicting, in the hopeless struggle against superior 
numbers, losses upon the enemy even proportionately 
equal. The law of numbers rules on the water as well, 
and there are proportionate strengths making victory 
positively impossible. 

But a great people, claiming a portion of interna- 
tional commerce and carrying its naval ensign over 
the ocean, must not even in such a case conduct the 
war without striving at least by every means after 
victory. It must never be satisfied with a mere passive 
defence; it must, in spite of the enemy, always try to 
gain and maintain the high sea victoriously. 

When the Carthaginians, powerful at sea, attacked 



240 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

Rome, a military State, to break its rising power and 
nip it in the bud, the Romans did not confine them- 
selves to mere defence, but they built a fleet, defeated 
that of the Carthaginians, and carried the war into 
Africa. Now things have indeed very materially 
changed compared with formerly. To-day a fleet can 
no longer be created during war, on the spur of the 
moment, as the Romans could at that time, when 
naval architecture was a comparatively simple thing. 
To create a fleet now is rather a long and tedious 
process, the enemy having plenty of time to adopt all 
his counter-measures. One cannot, therefore, hope 
to augment the number of available ships to any sub- 
stantial extent during the war itself ; yet, by the mode 
of conducting the war, one can try to bring about by 
degrees an equalization of the forces, and thus, per- 
haps, make it possible to fight under more favorable 
conditions the decisive battle avoided at the beginning 
of the war. 

This, I think, can only be achieved with the aid of 
the coast defences. The latter gain thereby an im- 
portance which goes far beyond the notion of a pure 
measure of protection. They become an active factor 
in naval warfare. The enemy must reckon with them 
as if with an active force. He has now two ways 
open by which he can try to fight down the defender 
— the blockade and the attack. 

Keeping up a blockade makes very great demands 
upon a blockading fleet; that service is exceedingly 
exhausting, and all the more so when the enemy con- 
trols a battle-fleet which takes an active part in the 
coast defence, and when the blockading line's naval 
base is far away. The blockading fleet cannot con- 
tinually keep to the high seas. It must generally con- 
fine itself to watching keenly the hostile coast with a 



NAVAL WARFARE CONSIDERATIONS 241 

number of ships, remaining with the bulk of the battle- 
fleet at a safe naval pivot behind the line of observa- 
tion, so as to oppose thence any hostile sorties. If 
there are no such pivots within easy reach of the fleet, 
it will try to seize such pivots in close proximity to 
the coast blockaded — perhaps a suitable island, or a 
point on the hostile coast itself. 

The defender, on his part, will turn these circum- 
stances as much to his advantage as possible. He will 
first of all occupy, and if feasible fortify, at any rate 
obstinately defend, all those points which would suit 
the enemy as pivots; he will, further, strive to keep 
the blockading fleet continuously on the alert by con- 
stant, and, if possible, sudden attacks, especially at 
night, partly with submarines and torpedo boats, partly 
also with the battle-fleet itself, inflicting upon it as 
many losses as is ever possible, but always breaking 
the action off when the enemy succeeds in uniting 
superior forces against the ships making the sortie. 
With successful reconnaissance it will, no doubt, be 
possible to assail the enemy with advantage at times, 
when he has weakened himself at one or the other 
place. A blockade by its nature necessitates a certain 
amount of division of forces, while the defender's fleet 
can lie always concentrated at safe anchorages, ready 
to make a sortie. 

A blockade of this sort will no doubt exact from the 
assailant great exertions, severely strain his ships, and 
entail heavy losses. It is therefore not to be antici- 
pated that he will, and can, confine himself to con- 
ducting the war in this indecisive fashion. He must 
therefore, sooner or later, make up his mind to attack 
the coast defences and mining fields, so as to capture 
the enemy's naval bases and destroy the hostile fleet 
itself. 



242 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

It is obvious that this is no easy matter. The de- 
fender's howitzer batteries, being perfectly concealed, 
are difficult to fight from the fleet, which is only 
equipped with guns for direct fire, whereas the coast 
howitzers can inflict most serious losses by their 
indirect fire upon the ships of the assailant. Torpedo 
and submarine attacks may also be successful, because, 
the channels being known to the defender, the op- 
ponent must move in them with great caution. There 
seems to be no doubt that the assailant is bound to 
suffer heavily in such warfare. If he succeeds in sup- 
porting the naval attack by landing corps and advanc- 
ing to attack the pivots of the defender, they must be 
opposed by the coast-defence troops. Considering 
this danger, it is important to fortify the naval pivots 
on the land side, at least hastily, so as to be prepared 
for such a combined attack and not to succumb to it. 
Such attempts at landing in support of an attack by 
sea are, for the rest, rather dangerous enterprises. If 
the attack of the fleet is successfully repulsed, and if 
the fleet of the defender sallies forth at the decisive 
moment for a counter-attack, re-embarkation of the 
detachments landed may sometimes be seriously en- 
dangered. 

No proof is needed that, under such circumstances, 
reconnaissance is of the utmost importance for the 
assailant as well as for the defender. Reconnaissance 
alone can inform the former of the position of the 
hostile works, the effect of his own fire, and the move- 
ments of the hostile fleet, and give the defender the 
chance of selecting favourable moments for attacking. 
But the latter will, in the face of the enemy's superi- 
ority, be unable to secure the necessary intelligence 
by ships alone ; he will rather have to make extensive 
use of reconnaissance by air. In that branch he is, 



NAVAL WARFARE CONSIDERATIONS 243 

as we have seen, superior to the assailant. He must 
therefore resolutely attack hostile airships and flying- 
machines appearing at the coast, and beat them ofif 
with anti-balloon guns. If we succeed in developing 
aerial navigation to use airships also for purposes of 
bombardment, it would create a new element of su- 
periority for coast defence, it being very difficult to 
start enterprises of this sort from the attacking fleet, 
whereas airships and flying-machines can always easily 
ascend from the coast, and reach the hostile offensive 
fleet in a very short time. 

If we now survey all the difficulties accruing to the 
assailant in his blockade and attack upon a well-de- 
fended and fortified coast, and if, on the other hand, 
we consider how comparatively favourable the con- 
ditions are under which the war can be conducted 
by the defender in a situation like this, we can very 
well imagine that even a great superiority in ships will 
gradually dwindle away, and that ultimately a state 
of affairs may be created in which the original differ- 
ence in force seems to be equalized, and that the ideal 
state in Beseler's fortress-defence has arrived — 
namely, "that the assailant will become defender and 
the vanquished." 

If that moment seems to have arrived, the battle- 
fleet of the hitherto defender must put to sea and fight 
the decisive battle. If during its long, wearisome 
struggle on the coast the fleet has succeeded in gaining 
and maintaining moral superiority over the attacker, 
if it has inflicted heavy material injury on him and 
broken the elasticity of his will to conquer, then it will 
come out victorious in this combat. But if the at- 
tacker has endured all hardships of the blockade and 
of the attack on the coast with unbroken courage, and 
if, in spite of all losses, he maintains a substantial 



244 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

numerical superiority, he may also in this last combat 
gain a victory and thus bring about a decision in his 
favor. 

It can scarcely be doubted that in such a war not 
only the material forces will decide, but also the spirit 
in which they are used, and the spirit of the nations 
who have sent their sons to fight will weigh decisively 
in the scale of victory. No doubt the quality of ar- 
mour and the effect of projectiles, as well as the power 
and speed of the ships, will most effectively assert 
themselves; but where the factors of victory are, to 
some extent at least, balanced, the persevering vigour 
and energy of attack, ruthless sacrifice of human life, 
unyielding will to conquer, and, lastly, the spirit and 
genius of command, will decide. 

Let us hope that if our German fleet is called one 
day to fight it will appear on the stage of the world 
with as surprising and decisive an effect as the Prus- 
sian Army, in 1866, which, being raised by universal 
service, had then been completely misjudged. 



CHAPTER XII 
RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT 



CHAPTER XII 

RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT 

When I began to put together and arrange in proper 
order the works and thoughts which had over and 
over again occupied my mind whilst studying miHtary 
events, as well as whilst doing duty and training officers 
and men ; when I tried to see clear in this enterprise, 
in what my work should really culminate, to what re- 
sult it should lead, the demand urged itself sponta- 
neously to discover, not only the nature of war of 
to-day in theory, but also to develop from this cogni- 
tion a superior principle of action, and to arrive at 
a standpoint whence we can exactly judge of all the 
various military questions in their reciprocal effect, 
and thus of their real importance for the conduct of 
war. It seemed to me that should we succeed in 
solving this problem, and in acting upon this solution, 
not only in war itself, but also in preparing war in 
a definite direction, we ought to gain superiority over 
opponents who are proceeding in a manner less ra- 
tional and critical, who therefore, perhaps, persist in 
a mechanical conception of a war with masses, and 
expect the final solution of many important tactical 
and strategic questions from the war of the future 
itself. It seemed to me possible and useful to con- 
duct war from the outset in accordance with distinct 
principles recognized a priori, and to master spiritually 
the powerful forces bound to be let loose in it, instead 

247 



248 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

of leaving them to their innate impulses, in opposition 
to the Italian general who insists that in a war of the 
future only the original direction given to the masses 
can be intended, but that afterwards ''the stream will, 
so to say, move on automatically." * It seemed to me 
that particularly we Germans, if we once take up arms, 
must not hand over our armies to this stream of 
automatic movement and thus to chance, as it were, 
because we shall be obliged to fight against enemies 
far superior in numbers, and shall therefore need 
spiritual superiority to equalize the numerical one. 

It was in pursuance of this idea that, starting from 
the most striking military phenomena of modern 
times, I followed up my reflections, and now, having 
arrived at the end of my investigations, the question 
faces me whether I have attained the object set, and 
whether from the inquiries and discussions instituted 
a result can be extracted which is of importance as a 
guide for the preparation and conduct of war, and 
which may, as a principle of action, guarantee a certain 
amount of superiority over our enemies. The answer 
must, from what I have tried to develop, result as it 
were of its own accord; and if I have succeeded in 
giving clear and convincing expression to my thoughts, 
the reader, having closely followed them, must during 
their development have himself arrived at the conclu- 
sions resulting from the nature of things, and at which 
I also have arrived in the course of this investigation. 
I shall try to summarize briefly the conclusions I have 
come to. 

If we look back to the description I tried to give 
in the preceding pages of the modern conditions of 
war, we soon recognize that there are virtually three 

* General Count Luchino Del Mayno, ''Ueber die Million- 
enheere," "Deutsche Revue," September, 191 1. 



RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT 249 

factors pressing a distinct stamp on war of to-day — 
the masses, the improved arms of defence and offence, 
and the modern means of communication. These 
phenomena are of so dominating a nature that the 
whole investigation had to start from them. But if 
we view the effects of these factors upon the conduct 
of war in their totahty, it is seen that on the one side 
they are promoting power, but on the other, again, 
that they have a paralysing effect, and are a hindrance 
to freedom of action. They represent factors of force, 
but also of weakness. Of this fact we must remain 
conscious, to judge correctly of their importance. 

The masses mobilized to-day for war entail the 
obvious advantage of all the vital forces of a people 
being called to arms, and of the State having at its 
disposal for conducting war a material of men all but 
inexhaustible. But masses comprise the danger of 
troops deteriorating in the military value which rests 
on training, on traditional discipline, and on the firm 
bonds between superior and subordinate, the masses 
thus becoming sometimes a danger to themselves. 
The size of the armies, moreover, renders strategic 
mobility difficult, and necessitates subsistence from 
depots. 

The improved weapons evidently benefit the con- 
duct of war, by the fact that they produce extra- 
ordinary material and moral effects; but this, on the 
other hand, has led to all closed formations being 
abandoned, has caused actions to be fought at very 
much greater distances than formerly, and has forced 
the troops to be careful of cover and protective means 
to an enhanced degree. The conduct of an action is 
thereby rendered exceedingly difficult, especially for 
the attacker, and forms of fighting have thereby been 
created antagonistic to conducting an action vigor- 



250 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

ously. But if we consider the reciprocal effect of mass 
and weapon, we see that less disciplined troops will, 
on the average, be opposed to increased effect of the 
latter — that therefore in spite of improvements of 
arms, we may expect tactical performances to be in- 
ferior. 

The means of communication of modern times, 
railways and motors, facilitate movements of masses, 
enhancing their mobility ; but they, on the other hand, 
tie the masses to permanent railways and regular 
roads, also to field-railways when they try to follow 
the movements of troops. 

Modern communication service, lastly, facilitates, no 
doubt, reconnaissance, transmission of orders and in- 
telligence but also creates new spheres of action, thus 
complicating the conduct of war still further, and ren- 
dering surprise difficult, which in former times so 
often ensured success. 

These so contradictory conditions have caused the 
frontal defensive on the one hand, and the deliberate 
strategic offensive on the other, to be much stronger 
than formerly — the former because it has above all 
benefited by the effect of arms and country, and the 
latter because the fact is chiefly to its advantage that 
in the more extensive theatres of war of large armies, 
and owing to the linear forms of strategy and tactics 
resulting from the effects of the arms, the chances of 
improvized operations have more and more dwindled 
away. 

In contrast with these altered manifestations of war, 
the factors of success, rooted in the nature of war 
itself, have remained the same. Courage and boldness 
are still of decisive importance to-day — well-trained 
and well-led troops perform still infinitely more to-day 
than troops less disciplined and badly employed; the 



RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT 251 

assailant is still superior to the defender to-day by the 
fact that to him is left the choice of the direction of 
attack, and the chance of concentrating forces by 
surprise, and that he can more uniformly and firmly 
strain all moral elements; the spiritual and moral 
factors of force are to-day still superior to the mate- 
rial ones of numbers and armaments. 

If in the midst of this abundance of antagonistic 
elements and effects we wish to find or pave the road 
to victory, we must not leave things to take their own 
course, their "automatic" development. That would 
lead to a purely mechanical competition, in which 
there is no spiritual preponderance apparent. Every- 
body would try to beat his opponent by the mass of 
his army, by the quality and number of his arms, and 
by the improvement of the means of transport and 
communication; the increased desire for protection 
would lead to still greater extension of the battle- 
fields and theatres of war; all material forces would 
increase immensely; but in this general levy would 
disappear more and more the mental and moral factors 
of success, while in reality it is just the spiritual su- 
periority to which they open a wide field to manifest 
themselves. 

We must set our face against this seemingly natural 
development, which would lead to destruction and vic- 
tory of the material forces over the highest and noblest 
faculties of the peoples. We must strive, above all, to 
make those elements subservient to us which are apt to 
increase the energy in the conduct of war, but to limit 
and neutralize as much as possible the effect of par- 
alysing and weakening factors. 

If we regard from this point of view the most es- 
sential manifestations of war of to-day in their recip- 
rocal effect, we shall, I believe, arrive at the conclusion 



252 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

that, above all, two elements will prove In a war of 
the future decisive and determine the issue just be- 
cause they are antagonistic to the seemingly natural 
development of things — namely, the military and 
moral value of the troops and their strategic efficiency. 

The main disadvantage of the armies of masses is, 
I believe to have convincingly proved, due to their 
inferior value in marching and fighting, to their in- 
ferior mobility, and to their unwieldiness for strategic 
operations. The party, therefore, which is in com- 
mand of better troops and more efficient for operations 
than the opposing one will attain an undoubted su- 
periority. 

If, moreover, improved arms produce greater mate- 
rial and moral effects than the inferior arms of for- 
mer wars, the party must again have an advantage 
which with equal armaments brings a superior kind of 
troops into action — that is to say, troops which can 
stand severer losses, have greater offensive power, and 
are less affected by moral shocks. 

Troops more efficient for operating — that is to say, 
troops that can march better, can stand greater ex- 
ertions and privations, and have a more efficient trans- 
port service — will be more independent of railways and 
roads than troops less mobile and less enduring; they 
will therefore be able to operate more freely than the 
latter, and thus again obtain an advantage over their 
opponent. They will make a better use of the results 
of reconnaissance, too, and have more prospects of 
achieving successes by surprise than their opponent, if 
less mobile and less efficient to strike. 

Now, people may certainly reply that the same fac- 
tors of superiority also existed formerly, and achieved 
successes in former wars. I do not mean to deny this 
at all; but what I maintain, on the other hand, and 



RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT 253 

what I believe to have proved, is that the tactical and 
operative efficiency of the troops — in face of the 
masses of modern armies, which in general are worse 
trained and more unwieldy — has gained to-day in 
significance ; this efficiency constitutes a comparatively 
very much more superior factor of superiority than 
formerly. That constitutes its decisive importance. 

There is, in like sense, another factor of extra- 
ordinary significance. I think to have irrefutably 
proved that the attack is not only by itself the stronger 
form of warfare, but that it has in a war of to-day 
and under modern conditions gained in superiority. 
But this superiority chiefly rests on strategic conditions. 
The assailant has, owing to the prerogative of initia- 
tive, a start in space and time, which even an equally 
mobile opponent cannot, as a rule, make good any 
longer. If he is now, in addition, quicker in his op- 
erations than the latter, and has better troops, the 
original superiority is enhanced by the fact that he can 
move quicker and be victorious in action quicker than 
an equally-matched opponent. If it is an incontest- 
able principle in warfare that we should always try to 
act offensively, we can act in accordance with it all 
the more successfully, the more mobile and the more 
efficient the troops we command. On these two qual- 
ities of an army depends freedom of action, by which 
alone the conduct of war can develop into an art, and 
in which boldness and heroism thrive. These rank 
before numbers. 

The latter remain, nevertheless, always a substantial 
factor of success. The law of numbers* remains un- 
altered, and cannot be violated unpunished. Nor must 
we ever reduce the number of troops to such an extent 
as to allow the hostile masses to cross the frontiers 
*Vol. i., book ii., chap, ii., p. 91. 



254 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

without meeting everywhere with resistance, and with- 
out being stubbornly fought. But within these hmits 
it is infinitely more important and more valuable to 
have efficient troops than large masses. This truth 
stands out all the more boldly the more we realize the 
importance of time and of the decisive direction. 

The side which gains a victory in the decisive di- 
rection is placed in a strategic position whence it can 
fight the enemy's secondary armies under the most 
favourable conditions, no matter whether it has gained 
the flank of the hostile army or pierced its front. He 
who gains this victory before the enemy has achieved 
on his part success on the secondary fronts enjoys the 
further advantage of being able to co-operate in the 
combats afterward with the undefeated troops of the 
other strategic fronts, and of thus having greater pros- 
pects of more successes. But defeats, too, suffered, 
perhaps, in portions of the theatre of war, away from 
the decisive direction, are by this victory in the main 
issue squared up and compensated for. That victory 
dominates the whole theatre of war. But to gain it 
rapidly — particularly when it must be fought by a 
frontal attack — is only possible if by greater strategic 
mobility we can unexpectedly unite superior forces in 
the decisive direction, if we can defeat the enemy in 
action in as short a time as possible by the superior 
efficiency of our troops, and if, after the victory, we 
are able to take advantage of the favourable situation 
by our further operations. This superiority leaves 
no doubt of what the principle of action should be. It 
is inherent in the nature of war itself* that we must 
proceed offensively as far as circumstances will ever 
admit; we must strive to gain a victory as rapidly as 
possible at the decisive spot by a sudden strategic con- 
*Vol. ii., book iv., chap, iii., p. 211. 



RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT 255 

centration of the forces in the direction thought to 
be decisive, and then to take advantage of it with the 
utmost energy, tactically and strategically. We must 
always make efforts to create by our operations fa- 
vourable conditions for battle. 

No proof is needed that such a mode of action will 
only prove superior, and also give the numerically 
weaker the chance of being successful, if we excel the 
enemy in military value and strategic mobility of our 
troops. If this is not the case, then the enemy, if he 
acts according to the same principle, has the same 
prospects of success, and numbers will decide. 

I think, therefore, that I may be allowed to state 
distinctly that in a future war that side will obviously 
have an advantage which in organisation and training 
of its army has most logically taken these two factors 
into account, has resolutely subordinated to them all 
other considerations, and has thereby succeeded in 
having an army which no other equals in tactical eiU- 
ciency and strategic mobility. But that commander 
will not prove a "modern Alexander" who from his 
"comfortable arm-chair" tries to inspirit uncounted 
numbers through the telephone; but he will who — of 
course in substance only — leads a phalanx against the 
enemy such as at one time victoriously followed the 
imperious will of Alexander the Great against the 
superior host of the Persian Empire, or followed the 
genius of Frederic the Great against the united forces 
of Europe. 

That is the result of my studies, and at the same 
time my unshakable conviction. 

But if in this regard I am not at all mistaken, if 
what I see so clearly before my eyes convinces also 
others, and holds its own in the conflict of opinions, 
it is the duty of the supreme military authorities to 



256 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

prepare war from this point of view, to judge every 
single military question from it alone, and to under- 
take or sanction nothing that is not subservient, or — 
worse^ — opposed to it. The idea of enhancing the of- 
fensive power of the army by increasing the efficiency 
of the troops and their strategic mobility must, then, 
be the leading one, dominating all the labours in peace 
for war. 

To comply with this demand is no easy task. It 
makes the highest claims on a nation's willingness 
to make sacrifices for military purposes. To point 
out how this must manifest itself in detail would lead 
me here too far; by its comprehensive importance it 
is a subject for an independent work. I shall but 
briefly direct attention in what follows to the most 
important points. 

It is first of all a matter of coming to an under- 
standing with regard to the question of masses. By 
constantly raising new Reserve and Landwehr forma- 
tions, by training Ersatz-Reservists and suchlike make- 
shifts, which we can make use of to compensate for, 
or, more than that, excel in numbers a likely adversary, 
in spite of a comparatively small peace army, it is 
evidently impossible to attain superiority over an 
enemy. The more such formations we establish the 
more inferior will they become, but the more they will 
weaken the regular army, which must be drained of 
its blood to infuse any life at all into the new forma- 
tions. We must rather resolve to limit these inferior' 
formations as much as possible, and only establish the 
number absolutely requisite for containing the general 
levies of the enemy on the secondary strategic fronts. 
But we must instead augment the troops of the line 
and the firmly-knit peace formations, so as to be able 
to fight on the decisive battlefield with tactical and 



RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT 257 

moral superiority. Future salvation lies in concentra- 
tion of strength, not in widely spreading it, fully con- 
scious that this is in opposition to the theory of masses 
in modern times. 

It is, secondly, a matter of making the troops which 
go afield fit for the strategic operations. In so far as 
this fitness depends on the march performances, it is 
already determined by the kind of troops itself. The 
line regiment, brought up to war strength by the 
youngest classes of reserves, will march infinitely bet- 
ter than a Landwehr unit composed of family fathers 
full of care. But apart from the proficiency in march- 
ing, strategic mobility depends directly on how sup- 
plies are regulated. 

When organizing the army we must first of all 
keep in view that the larger units to which are gener- 
ally assigned one road — the army corps — must not go 
beyond a certain strength. They must not in simple 
column of route become so deep as to prevent their 
being continuously subsisted from the rear. I think 
the utmost permissible limit is attained by a depth of 
25 kilometres of the column. We must not, therefore, 
indiscriminately load the army corps with new sub- 
sidiary services — with artillery, ammunition columns, 
air-detachments, and so forth. The seeming addi- 
tional strength is none such at all if the efficiency of 
the troops to march and to operate is thereby impaired. 
The advantage of being able to meet each hostile army 
corps with an equally strong or even stronger corps 
goes for nothing if one army succeeds in uniting on the 
decisive field of battle, by more efficient operations, 
five or six corps, somewhat weaker, but fresh and well 
supplied, whilst the other can bring up perhaps only 
three of them, which by themselves are stronger, but 
taken altogether are weaker than the enemy's, and 



258 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

have constantly had to contend with difficulties of 
supply. 

We must, therefore, know how to limit ourselves 
in regard to depth of march columns and strength of 
army corps if we wish to preserve strategic mobility; 
and we must not mind the seeming sacrifice in fighting 
power which may thereby be demanded. 

The transport service of the troops must next be 
organized in such a way as to permit the daily and 
frictionless supply of the troops being unhesitatingly 
and permanently carried through. I have already 
pointed out in another chapter that with this object 
we would do well to form the supply columns of the 
army corps into corps and divisional units, and not 
to organize them in a series of successive lines behind 
the whole force. It is also important to keep the 
transport service itself as mobile as possible, so that 
it can follow all the operations forward and backward. 
Corps and divisions not equipped with a transport 
service efficient in this respect, and organized for active 
service, are positively useless for a great modern war, 
as they would only paralyse the strategic mobility of 
the other troops, and therefore, as a rule, do more 
injury than good. Formations which cannot be fur- 
nished with the necessary transport are better not 
raised at all, or, at least, used only in local defence 
on secondary points, where they can live, partly at 
least, on the country. That to the cavalry also, if it 
is to be of any use at all, columns must be attached 
suiting its peculiar character needs, of course, no 
further mentioning ; and it is as obvious that not only 
the troops themselves must be provided with the neces- 
sary transport service, but also that the lines of com- 
munication must be able to follow the march of the 
columns of the army with the requisite depots. The 



RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT 259 

railroads, be they trunk-lines or field-railways, must 
follow the troops as closely as possible, or be replaced 
by mechanical transport, motors, etc., designed to keep 
up the traffic between regimental transports and rail- 
heads. We must, lastly, take care that in war itself 
the roads are not encumbered with unauthorized trans- 
port. I can still vividly recall to my mind the long 
rows of knapsack-wagons, the long columns of cattle, 
of the voluntary ambulances, of the endless wagon- 
park of General Headquarters, of the tent-wagons 
which one cavalry division had with it, of the innu- 
merable wagons requisitioned by the troops for carry- 
ing supplies — all of which followed the army to Sedan. 
Had there been a retreat, it would have been impossible 
to preserve order and strategic mobility with a crowd 
like this. A nuisance of this sort must be sternly sup- 
pressed in future. 

If with all these means we succeed in raising the 
strategic mobility of the troops to the highest possible 
pitch, we can only make the fullest use of this decisive 
advantage if we are informed in time of the enemy's 
measures by rapid and reliable reconnaissance. It 
is therefore imperative to prepare particularly care- 
fully beforehand all the means serving for reconnais- 
sance; before all things, therefore, to have a numerous 
and efficient cavalry, able to screen the movements of 
our own army and defeat the opposing cavalry, so as 
to carry on reconnaissance successfully. But we must 
at the same time by all means train the aerial fleet 
and develop the means of communication, particularly 
those which do not depend on conductors— above all, 
therefore, visual signalling and wireless telegraphy. 
If we should succeed in developing the latter so that 
it can be extensively used by the troops, it would mean 
a great advance in raising their strategic mobility. 



26o HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

Striving in this way to create favourable conditions 
for the strategic operations of our own troops, we 
must, on the other hand; endeavour to paralyse the 
enemy's mobility. For this, too, the cavalry is the 
proper means, if it is able to cut the communica- 
tions in rear of the enemy's army, thus preventing it 
being regularly supplied. In opposition to the gener- 
ally accepted view, that army will, in consequence of 
these conditions, have a distinct advantage which has 
a strong, efficient, and superior cavalry, and under- 
stands how to use it in a strategic sense. The low es- 
timation in which it is everywhere customary to hold 
this arm to-day is solely due to the fact that people 
insist upon wishing to use the cavalry as an arm for 
battle and for charging, while they do not understand 
how to use it strategically, nor have organized it at 
all with that object. But that it can be employed in 
this sphere to the greatest advantage and can also con- 
duct a vigorous fire-fight without being unduly ham- 
pered by its horses or losing them, is suf^ciently proved 
by the American War of Secession and by the South 
African War. I am therefore of opinion that those 
who guide the army, and who correctly discern the 
nature of modern war, must consider it as one of their 
most paramount duties greatly to augment the cavalry, 
and to see that there is always a suf^cient supply of 
horses. The next war will confirm the correctness of 
this view. 

All other military questions must be subordinated 
to the broad points here characterized with a few 
strokes; they must be solved from these points of 
view if an army is to come up to the requirements 
demanded by a war of to-day. The land and coast 
defences, too, must be completed in the spirit of offen- 



RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT 261 

sive warfare, and must nowhere assume the character 
of a mere defensive measure. 

The issue of the next European war hangs in the 
balance of strategic offensive; but only that State will 
derive all the advantages from it which knows how 
to initiate the war under auspicious political circum- 
stances, and thus to create favourable conditions for 
the military action itself. The grouping of the neigh- 
bouring States, brought about by policy, and the 
choice of the moment for beginning the war, broadly 
create the conditions under which the war must be 
waged, and these may be decisive for its whole course. 
Nor can an army be permanently kept at its highest 
point of efficiency. Any bow may snap if the string 
is always pulled without darting the arrow at the 
right moment. And so also will an army which is 
always used only to keep the peace, and not to con- 
duct a war at the right moment, lose within a meas- 
urable time its mental elasticity, and with it its effi- 
ciency — just the same as a nation whose power is not 
put in action for the attainment of great aims and 
objects will gradually forfeit this power and fossilize 
in its comfortable, peaceful habits and narrow circles 
of personal interests. Policy must reckon with these 
factors and take advantage of the culminating-point 
of development when a favourable political constella- 
tion in the world invites thereto, and thus procure 
the people and the State wider spheres of action and 
ensure their sound development. 

In the regions of political strategy the law of initia- 
tive rules too ; it creates material and moral values of 
superiority which turn into military advantages if 
policy leads to war. "No doubt no man, unless he 
is an idiot, will leave his enemies time calmly to adopt 
his measures to destroy him, but take advantage of 



262 HOW GERMANY MAKES WAR 

his start," wrote Frederic the Great to Pitt on July 3, 
1761, and in another place he said: "Is the term *as- 
sailant' such a terrible -one? It is a scarecrow to 
frighten cowards only." His doctrines, which he con- 
firms by deeds, remain immortal, and should always 
serve virile statecraft as a guide in our days too. The 
political initiative must then, of course, be followed 
up by a corresponding military initiative. The war 
must be actually a continuation of policy, certainly 
by other means, yet in the same spirit of ready initia- 
tive. But if a bold policy ends with a cautious de- 
fensive conduct of the war, which leaves the enemy 
time to adopt his political and military counter-meas- 
ures, it can scarcely expect to be successful. 

When the Boers sent their ultimatum to the English 
they acted in Frederician spirit. But when this bold 
political step was followed by but a halting offensive, 
and when they thought they could combine a strategic 
attack with a tactical defensive, they came in conflict 
with themselves, and the military consequences could 
not fail to follow. A counterpart of this mode of ac- 
tion is the attitude of the Japanese. Their policy, too, 
was pervaded by Frederician spirit, when they boldly 
flung down the gauntlet to Russia. But the political 
deed was followed by military action. By an un- 
broken offensive they tried to make full use of the 
military advantages they had made sure of by their 
political initiative ; and their success showed they were 
right. It was, above all, their boldness w^hich para- 
lysed the arm of their far superior enemy, and made 
them by one stroke the dominating race of Eastern 
Asia, the same as I hope the German people will as- 
sert and maintain itself as the dominating race of 
Europe. 

That such a dream of the future can only be realized 



RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT 263 

if we constantly retain political and military initiative 
needs no further proof for him who has become con- 
vinced by my expositions. We must strive with every 
means to uphold our military supremacy, and if we 
realize, on the one hand, the dangers threatening us 
from all sides, and on the other the loftiness of the 
problems which seem to be in store for us in the future 
as a political power and a civilized nation, then will 
also awaken in the soul of our people that self-sacri- 
ficing spirit which this injunction demands from us. 

I believe in the German people; I believe that a 
great future is in store for it, and that it has to ac- 
complish a high calling in the development of man- 
kind. But it can only put this task to good account 
if it exerts its military strength to the utmost, and if 
its policy, while placing its aims high and not afraid 
of dangerous paths, remains conscious of the truth 
that, as in war, so also in the political intercourse of 
States, the will and action alone can achieve great 
things, and that in all human affairs the words of the 
poet hold good : 

"Im Anfang war die Tat." * 

* "Action was the beginning of everything." — Translator. 



